


Misconceptions

by positivelyglowing



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Non-Explicit Sex, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Slow Burn, Teen Pregnancy, The Juno AU nobody asked for, in other words
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-06-07 15:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 62,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15222404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/positivelyglowing/pseuds/positivelyglowing
Summary: “Look, in my opinion, the best thing you can do is to find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still gonna think the sun shines out your ass. That’s the kind of person worth sticking with.” - Juno (2007)





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my story!! This is my first fic for this fandom. It's also the first one I've written in like three years! This is a Juno AU, but you don't have to have seen the movie to understand what's happening. It will follow the main plot, but with some differences. Enjoy! :)

The four year plan Michelle meticulously made as a freshman had been compromised within the first month of her junior year.

It all started on a quiet night in the middle of summer.

_“Are you still watching ‘Friends’?” The blatantly judgemental text of Netflix stares back at them as they finish the fifth season of the hit 90s sitcom._

_“So… “ Peter starts. “What do you wanna do now?”_

_Michelle doesn’t hear his question, because she can’t help but notice that their legs_ — _their whole ass legs, thighs and all_ — _are touching and for some reason, that’s making it very hard for her to concentrate. Granted, they’re both wearing jeans, so there’s no skin-to-skin contact._

_But still._

_She can feel how warm he is through the denim and all she wants to do is lean into him further. The only thing she can muster is a non committal hum in response. She distracts herself by checking her phone, hoping that it’s not too late at night._

_12:51 AM._

Michelle wasn’t quite sure what had come over her that night.

She’d say it was because they were bored, that there was nothing to do, but that was far from the truth.

It could have been the sleep deprivation caused by staying up an extra hour or two for that Friends marathon they had been meaning to do. It could have been the fact that they were actually alone for once—their usual third party still on vacation with his family in Denver—and it was those darn raging teenage hormones that made her do it (she thought this one was most likely the main culprit).

Or it could have been that stupid mop of stupid brown curls on top of the stupid cute face with the stupid brown eyes of one of her best friends.

She honestly couldn’t tell you exactly how they ended up on the same side of the couch. They just… migrated to the center. Little by little. Like two magnets. It was weird. But, she wasn’t completely at fault here. All of that shit, along with the fact that she was harbouring a big fat crush on Peter Parker—said cute best friend—and all these feelings that she would never admit to anyone else ever, was a seriously dangerous combination. He had spent the entire evening throwing her dopey smiles and genuine laughs at her random, and arguably unnecessary, commentary. Honestly, he didn’t have to do that. At all. Michelle knew she was funny—no, _hilarious_ —but even she thought he was kind of playing it up a little bit.

Again, any number of factors could have contributed to the decision(s) she made that night in July.

_She worries for a moment that she’ll have to go home, that he’ll (kindly) kick her out because he’s tired and wants to go to bed. This wouldn’t have been an issue if they weren’t alone. Of course, they’ve had sleepovers before, but it’s never just been the two of them. Ned has always been there for those._

_Also, and this is probably much more important, May isn’t here for some reason. Michelle is sure Peter explained that part at some point in the night, but she honestly can’t remember, because all she can think about is how close they are on this couch that is more than big enough for the two of them. Jesus, there was literally no reason for them to be sitting literally right next to each other. The fact that their unnecessarily close proximity is affecting her so damn much is beyond frustrating. She and Peter have had to sit next to each other before, it was nothing new. Heck, she’s even hugged the guy (it was one time and it was glorious). But this feels different._

_She blames hormones._

_“Hello? Earth to Michelle?” Peter laughs, waving his hand in front of her face._

_She realizes she’s been staring at her black phone screen this whole time. “What?” She bites back defensively, swatting his hand away, her brows furrowed as she feels heat rush to her cheeks._

_He looks a little taken aback by her response, his eyes widening slightly, his face taking on the likeness of a mildly surprised puppy._

_For the umpteenth time that night, Michelle tells herself that it’s not cute._

_“It’s just… we finished that season, and I was just, uh, asking what else you wanted to watch?”_

_She shrugs, mostly because she genuinely doesn't know what she wants to watch, and maybe a tiny bit because all she can think about right now is how she wants to smash their faces together. “I dunno.”_

_Peter nods, pressing his lips together in a thin line, and continues to flip through Netflix, throwing out suggestion after suggestion. “We could start the next season, if you want. Oh! Or we could watch that documentary about the women in the mercury space program. You mentioned wanting to see that,” Peter continues his rambling, eyes lighting up as he goes on, listing off a plethora of shows and movies. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought he was trying to find something for them to do just so she would stay. “But–but if you’re too tired then that’s fine.”_

_She does know better though._

_Well, she thinks._

_To be honest, Michelle had stopped listening to his jabbering, instead opting to just kind of… watch him. Every once in a while, his face scrunches up in thought and at one point, he bites the inside of his lip. Great. And now she’s thinking about his lips and about how soft they look and she’s wondering what they feel and taste like and then the words are just coming out of her mouth before she can stop them, “or we could just make out.”_

_She says it with such nonchalance that Peter almost doesn’t even notice. “Yeah_ — _wait, what?”_

_Almost._

_She tells herself that his dramatic double take and the way his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows knit together in a look if shock and bewilderment isn't the least bit adorable. It’s dumb. Not cute. Very, very dumb._

_Peter stammers, struggling to find a response, and it's then that she wishes she could take it back._

_Ah, fuck it._

" _Or we could just make out,” she repeats herself, shrugging, acting as if it’s no big deal, even though it was quite the opposite._

_Again, she’s met with shocked silence, and she goes back to regretting everything. She gets ready to laugh in his face. She’s ready to say, “just kidding,” to point at fake hidden cameras and tell him he’s been punk’d. She’ll call him a loser for thinking she would actually want to kiss him for good measure (even if she does really, really want to.) They’d have a good laugh about this. She’d leave, and everything would be fine. It would just be a really funny story._

_Instead, it's her turn to be shocked when Peter actually manages to respond._

_“Uh, yeah sure,” his voice comes out higher than usual, strained in an effort to sound calm. He chuckles nervously, but it turns into a cough. “That’d be cool,” he adds, giving her a lame thumbs up. “Let’s uh_ — _let’s do this thing. Cool.”_

_What a dweeb._

_“Ok, cool.”_

_She doesn’t waste any more time and closes the distance between them._

If it wasn’t obvious, Michelle had not anticipated him saying yes. To say it was a shock would be quite the understatement, actually.

She had spent nearly her entire high school career pining—god, she hated that word—after that boy. Whatever Michelle felt for him, whatever it was, it didn’t really start out as a crush. He was just another person to watch and observe. But it was through these observations that she started to fall. And hard. He was just such a good person; always doing the right thing, helping others and expecting nothing in return, and damn it, the selfless hero type might have been her one weakness.

She wouldn’t say she was in love with him, per se. After all, she was only sixteen; she didn’t know the first thing about what love actually was.

The thing was, Peter had always been so unattainable to her, the reason for this being the fact that he had a crush the size of freaking Texas on Liz Toomes since Freshman year. Sure, it stung a little when Liz would get a text back, but Michelle wouldn’t. That sucked. But it made dealing with her feelings so much easier.

If she knew she couldn’t have him and she couldn’t do anything about it, then she wouldn’t have to risk getting even more hurt. She would settle for just liking/observing him from a distance.

It was better that way.

Being able to blend into the background was one of the many skills she possessed, and she was damn proud of it. The amount of juicy details she’s learned about people’s lives just from them not seeming to notice her was insane. (For instance, she knew that Peter was Spider-Man. The boy wasn’t that subtle, though she didn’t really need him at all to figure it out. Of course, she never really did anything with any of this information, and she wasn’t mad that Peter hadn’t told her. If he wanted to tell her, he would.) There wasn’t really anything she could do with all the gossip she’d learned over the years; there was no real reason to. She just liked knowing.

Then Liz moved and it got so much worse. Now, Peter, while he still may have had feelings for Liz, wasn’t focusing all of his attention on one girl. Which was fine, Michelle could deal with that. Everything was cool.

But then, after she became the new captain of the decathlon team, he and Ned started talking to her more, including her in all their nerdy conversations (except the Spider-Man ones.) They started sitting next to her at lunch, inviting her to hang out after school, to their weekly movie nights. They teased her and joked with her. Pretty soon, they were friends, actual friends, and that’s when Michelle knew she was royally screwed—pun partially intended.

_Both of them aren’t quite sure how they got here, but neither are complaining._

_She doesn’t remember who initiates what, but at some point they stopped kissing. Now Michelle is standing in just her t-shirt and a pair of underwear in front of a very naked Peter Parker, who looks like he’s about to pass out. Neither of them know what the hell they’re doing, because neither of them have really ever done anything like this before. Her hands are absently fumbling with the unopened condom_ — _one of the ones they gave out that one time in health class during that one day of sex-ed_ — _as she finds it harder and harder to maintain direct eye contact with him._

_She realizes that they have to put the damn thing on at some point. “Do you wanna… you know…?” she asks, gesturing with the wrapper, handing it to him, before briefly glancing down._

_She mentally kicks herself for being so inarticulate._

_Peter seems confused for a moment, but quickly takes the hint. “Uh, yeahyeahyeah sure. Sure. No problem. I can do that,” he rambles as he tears the wrapper open._

_She distracts herself from what he’s doing by removing the rest of her clothes; she decides to ignore the fluttering in her stomach at the way he’s looking at her as she moves toward him. As observant as she prides herself in being, she can’t quite pick up on what expression is etched across Peter’s features. His eyes are wide with wonder and nerves as he stares up at her, trained on her face, offering her a shy smile, and she can’t help the faint smile that tugs at the corner of her mouth in return._

_They both let out a breathless laugh._

_She leans in to kiss him again as she lowers herself onto his lap._

For both of their first times ever, it wasn’t too bad. As awkward and uncoordinated as it may have been, she wouldn’t have had it any other way. To her, it was pretty darn near perfect.

It was now September 4th, about two months since that night, and they haven’t talked about it. At all. It wasn’t anything like what happens in the movies. There was no big, over-the-top, show-stopping declaration of love after they did it. He didn’t serenade her with the marching band, singing some song about how beautiful she is and how much he needs her. It was as if none of it had ever happened. They had both silently agreed to never mention it, never talk about it. Instead of dealing with the problem head-on, they chose to be as awkward as humanly possible around each other. Well, Peter had anyway. Michelle—the _true_ adult here—was perfectly fine around him.

Or at least she tried to be. It’s when he’d get awkward that she’d get awkward.

And that’s literally all the time.

At first, the tension was impossible to stand. But as the weeks went on, it slowly, _very_ slowly, got easier. Peter couldn’t even look at her without the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of red. He’d stammer and blush, and sometimes she’d even catch him staring at her with this weird expression on his face, like he’d simultaneously learned the best and worst news of his life. She wasn’t sure how to take that.

She assumed he didn’t tell Ned; she definitely would have heard by now if he had.

Now it’s not so bad. It’s relatively back to normal. They can hold normal conversation, somewhat, and it’s only every once in a while that she’ll have to remind him, _“hey loser, eyes up here,”_ and he’ll get that wide-eyed expression, his voice raising almost two octaves as he apologizes profusely.  

While she can’t fight the disappointment at not pursuing anything real with each other—sleeping with your best friend that you also happen to like quite a bit can do that to you—she can’t say she’s all that surprised. She hadn’t actually expected anything to come out of this. It was just a one time thing. They’re horny teenagers. Things like this happen all the time. Just because they slept together didn’t mean that they were going to ride off into the sunset together.

So, after all of that, Michelle should have seen this coming.

Well maybe not. They did use protection after all. She paid attention in health class, she has the internet, she knows what happens.

The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind when she puked not once, but twice, in her stepmom’s nice new urn after downing an entire smoothie. Or when she seemed to have developed the bladder of a freaking racehorse and peed like, fifteen times in a day. And yeah, it was a little weird that she was still dead tired after a full eight hours of sleep, but she figured that was just her growing teenage body protesting it’s entire existence. She was always tired, it was nothing new.

The biggest clue in all of this, and perhaps the most important yet _severely_ overlooked one, was the fact that she missed her period.

At first, she had just written it off as being irregular. She’s a human, it happens. And she only had sex once, and since she and Peter never mentioned it, it kind of slipped her mind as a possibility.

She remembered there was light spotting about two weeks after their little rendezvous, so she thought she was in the clear.

But nothing came this month.

And so, she bit the bullet and bought a pregnancy test. Or two. Or three. She had to be absolutely sure.

Michelle sat at the edge of her bed, chugging a bottle of water as she stared at the final pink box. She’d read somewhere that just drinking tons of liquid didn’t really make for a super accurate test, but damn it, she had one left, and she had to be _absolutely sure._ The first two could have easily been false positives. So what if she was in denial?

She groaned, throwing her head in her hands after discarding the now empty water bottle. What the actual _fuck_ was she going to do?

After the first test, two lines being positive, she had tried to look at the bright side, or whatever side wasn’t awful in this dumpster fire of a situation.

Babies couldn’t be that hard to take care of, and she guessed they were kinda cute. She’s seen a few babies in her sixteen years of being alive. Yeah, all they do is eat, sleep, cry, and poop, but so did literally everyone else in the world. From what she could tell, babies were just smaller, louder, humans. All they really needed was love, attention, occasional trips to the outside world, and food. In a way, they were kinda like more emotionally complex houseplants, and she could totally keep plants alive. She’s had a few succulents in her day.

Plus, she thought it would be kind of cool to grow an actual human person inside her body. She’s been around pregnant people before, and for the most part they seem to be pretty chill with it.

Those feelings were gone after the second positive test. Two lines.  

Now. Now, she was worried. It was becoming more and more real. She knew that she couldn’t take care of another living person; she couldn’t even really take care of herself. Yeah, she’s taken care of plants before, but a significant amount of those plants have _died._ Even the succulents. And, _god,_ Peter was in no way, shape, or form ready to be a father in any sense of the word. Good lord, that kid was an absolute trainwreck, even more so than herself.

Michelle didn’t even know if her body could handle that kind of change, she was only a junior in high school for crying out loud. She literally just got her license. On top of that, she was pretty sure she still had some development to go through. As mature as she was for her age, she’s still just a kid.

At this point, she was in denial, but she still had one test left. She had to be _absolutely sure._

Minutes later, she was in the bathroom for the third time that night, silently praying to whatever higher being willing to listen that it wasn’t a yes. She took that third test without even thinking about it, almost proud of herself for getting a decent amount of pee on that white stick and not all over her hand. As sneakily as she could, as to not wake her sleeping parents, she rushed back to her bedroom, pee stick in hand, and waited.

She paced back and forth, her feet padding on the dark wood floors, her free hand drumming against the side of her leg. No matter what the test said, she had to remain calm. She couldn’t freak out.

After a few minutes passed, she decided it was time to accept whatever fate she had, good or bad.

_Pleasepleasepleaseplease don’t be positive._

After a brief pep-talk, she finally looked, not even remotely close to ready for the answer.

And there it was.

Those two, unholy lines stared right back at her.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos! It means so much!!

_ Well, fuck. _

Without a doubt, Michelle was one-hundred percent pregnant. 

Up the spout. Knocked up. In the family way. Preggo in the eggo. Preggers. Expecting. Eating for two. 

A cautionary whale.

_ Pregnant _ .

Sleep did not come easily that night; not with the knowledge that her body was now the home to what was probably a tiny sea monkey at this point. That, and her brain wouldn’t shut up long enough for her to get any rest. What was she going to do? How was she going to tell Peter? More importantly, how was she supposed to tell her parents? 

She huffed in exasperation, turning on her back and staring up at the ceiling. She could set up an appointment with the Diane L. Max Health Center; it’d be dealt and over with before it ever became a problem. This way she would bypass having to tell anyone at all. 

And she’s gone this long without telling her parents everything about her life, so what was one more thing to hide? They were pretty chill as it was with whatever shenanigans she got herself into. 

But then again, she’s never been pregnant before, so they might not be so cool about that. 

Even then, it felt wrong not to keep at least Peter in the know. Not only was he one of her best friends, but he was the father of this freaking kid. There was a problem, though: she just wasn’t sure if he could handle this type of information. It’s a lot to process.

Then again, he’s not the one who’s pregnant. 

Really, in comparison, his contribution to the whole thing didn’t amount to much. 

It might just be better to not tell him at all.

She just isn’t sure how this happened. Well, she knows  _ how  _ it happened, she just doesn’t get what they did wrong. They used a condom, something they were told again and again in health class, by the internet, and by every adult ever. Did he put it on right? She’s like seventy-three percent sure he did. Should she have checked? Yeah, maybe. Granted, neither of them had ever put one on a real dick before, they’d only ever kind of seen it happen—just that one time in health where the teacher put one on a banana. So that may have been a game changer. 

It didn’t slip off inside her or anything; that was something she’d definitely remember. If that were the case, she would have thought to use Plan B. On top of all that, they didn’t check for any holes, another mistake. Come to think of it, that may have been what started this whole shit show. Maybe Peter didn’t store it right? 

None of this is saying that it’s all Peter’s fault; you need two people (technically) to make a baby.  And Michelle doesn’t want to place  _ all _ of the blame on him. 

Just some of it. 

They’d just have to be more careful next time.

_ Next time?? _

She recoiled at the intrusive thought, annoyed at herself for even thinking it. Who was she kidding? There probably wouldn’t be a next time. They had their one night, and it was great, but it wouldn’t happen again, especially after this. 

Not with Peter, at least.

She’s  _ pregnant.  _

That was it. She would just never have sex again. With anyone. Ever. Men are cancelled. All they do is get you pregnant, you become a soccer mom in the suburbs with a minivan, fighting with the other basic ass moms in your cul de sac, and then you eventually die. 

Such is life. 

_ C’est la vie.  _

Okay, maybe she was being a little melodramatic.

The clattering of pots and pans, along the sound of footsteps pattering down the hall outside her door interrupted her thoughts, signaling that it was time to get up for school. With a frustrated sigh, Michelle sat up in bed.

The once dark sky was now faint shades of blue and pink and purple outside her window.

Getting barely two hours of sleep did not feel all that great. 

For a moment, she considered just staying in her cozy nest, calling in sick. If she stayed home, she wouldn’t have to deal with any of this today. 

Shaking her head, she dismissed that idea. 

No, she had to seem normal, or as normal as she could. 

She groaned into her pillow, before forcing herself from under the covers, a shiver running through her as the cool morning air made contact with her skin. Whether she wanted to or not, she’d have to face this day head on.

The cracking of her back as she stretched her arms above her head would have normally been a satisfying sound, but was now just a reminder of her restless night. Swinging—or more dragging—her feet over the side of the bed, she was met with the cool wood floors. Her legs ached with fatigue as she hauled herself to the other side of her bedroom.

Hands gripped at the edge of her desk, balancing herself as she checked out the damage in the mirror. Rubbing her face, she began inspecting the dark circles under eyes, the way her hair stuck up and out in different directions. Frustrated, she blew away a particular strand that had made its home on her upper lip, carding a hand through her hair in an attempt to tame the unruly curls. 

This was as good as it was gonna get today.

Thirty minutes later, after some major flip-flopping, Michelle finally emerged from her cave, sporting some jeans and a comically oversized sweater. She wasn’t showing yet, but she couldn’t take any chances, even if it was still practically summer. 

The bright lights of the kitchen were merciless on her tired eyes. She squinted, yawning as she made her way to the pantry. 

Her step-mom Linda stood at the counter pouring some creamer into a cup of coffee. “Good morning, Michelle!” Her polite voice was more grating than it usually was. 

Linda Jones was a very successful and intimidating woman who worked as a financial advisor at a local bank. Originally from a small suburb of Chicago, she had the typical midwestern accent, though it had faded a little from her years living in New York. She was a little rough around the edges, but she took on the role of loving mother when she needed to; she made sure to go to every decathlon meet, to schedule all of Michelle’s doctor’s appoints because she was too chicken to do it herself, she packed all the lunches. 

You know, general mom stuff. 

Although Linda wasn’t the real thing, she was close enough.

After all, Michelle was only five years old when her biological mother decided to leave the family. 

She hasn’t seen her since. 

Now, they only talked a few times a year, usually a phone call, making sure to hit every major holiday and birthday, but nothing in between. The only thing Michelle received from her biological mom was the yearly birthday gift of cold hard cash. Not as great as it sounds though; her mom thought it was cute to just send an amount that matched how old her daughter was. And it was cute… When Michelle was a child.

But...

Now she’s older, and this year she got a whopping sixteen dollars. 

Oh, and a cactus, for some inexplicable reason. 

(Michelle didn’t mean to sound ungrateful—at least the lady was sending stuff. But come on, was that the best she could do? Some loveless money and a stabby plant? Honestly, those cactus needles stung almost as much as her abandonment.)

(Michelle wasn’t bitter.)

The point was, Linda was great and everything, and a pretty decent mom, but the woman still somehow always managed to get on Michelle’s nerves. “Hey, Linda,” Michelle mumbled, saluting as she grabbed a box of cheerios.  

Immediately, the older woman sensed something was off as she took in the teen’s appearance, eyeing her critically. “Oh, honey, are you alright?” Linda leaned against the counter, her brows furrowing in concern as she folded her arms to her chest. “You look… You look dead.”

“Well, I guess now the outside matches the inside,” Michelle quipped back dryly, reaching up to grab a bowl from the cabinets and pouring herself some cereal. “Thanks for noticing though.” She could feel the stern glare just burn right into her. “I’m fine, Linda. Just tired.” 

Linda’s eyebrows rose skeptically as she finished her coffee. “Well, I have a meeting this morning, so I’m going to head out a little early,” dropping the subject without any second thought, she reached for her purse. “Your father’s taking Annie to school, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

As if on cue, Bill Jones walked in, bringing an overwhelming  _ dad _ energy with him. This was a man that radiated all sorts of charisma, without even having to say a word, much less smile. The dry, sarcastic sense of humor and wit all Michelle’s friends had come to know and love? It came from this man. There was the same deadpan expression at the slightest joke. She and her father were very similar, in many different aspects, but his personality had been softened from years of parenting. 

_ Oh, god, was that gonna happen to her? _

Bill owned a used furniture shop on the outskirts of downtown; it was small, but still pretty nice, and it made their family some decent money. 

“Morning, Em,” He planted a kiss in Michelle’s hair. If he noticed how off she was this morning, he didn’t comment on it. 

For that, she was grateful.

Dark dad-jeans, New Balances, and a plaid button up stood in stark contrast to Linda’s neatly pressed pantsuit. The two of them had met nearly ten years ago, a little after the original Mrs. Jones had high-tailed it out, when Linda had walked into his shop looking for a nice bed frame for her niece, Rebecca. She had complained about the “outrageous,” prices, Bill refused to bargain, Linda threatened to take her business elsewhere, and—

It was love at first sight.

“Annie, c’mon sweetie, get your little butt out here,” Bill called into the house. 

Michelle’s eight year old half-sister Annie practically pranced into the room, still dressed in her turtle pajamas, tiny backpack in hand. A smile spread across her round face, stretching from ear to ear as she said her “good mornings.” 

Linda sighed, resting a hand on her hip. “Annie, honey, what are you wearing? Go put your school clothes on,” she ordered, shooing the little girl away.

“What? I think she looks great,” Michelle said through a mouthful of cheerios. “It’s called fashion, Lin. Take some notes.”

Her snark was met with a pointed, suspicious glare.“Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“Geez, yes, I’m fine. Will you give it a rest already? You’re really digging into that overbearing suburban soccer-mom stereotype today.”

The way her step-mother bristled in response gave Michelle the tiniest bit of satisfaction. Yeah, she did feel like she was dying because of the lack of sleep, and because of the side effects the came with having a tiny human incubating in her stomach, but that wasn’t going to stop her from roasting Linda whenever she could. 

With a scoff, Linda stepped out of the kitchen. 

Just as Michelle thought she was in the clear, her dad decided now was the time to pry. 

“You gotta big day today, Em?” He inquired, attempting to disguise his concern beneath layers of curiosity. 

“Nope,” she shook her head, not even looking up from her bowl. 

“No tests? Projects? Presentations?”

“Nope.”

Her dad threw her a doubtful look, quirking a brow in her direction. “You got decathlon today?”

“Yup.”

Bill hesitated, debating on grilling more questions, but seemed to decide against it.

Once again, Michelle’s little sister stepped into the room, this time actually dressed. Bill bent down to plant a light peck on the younger daughter’s forehead. “Alrighty, Banannie is ready, Mom’s ready, let’s get outta here.” 

Michelle watched as the three of them moved to the front door, her dad giving one last worried look over his shoulder as the door clicked shut.

A heavy sigh of relief she hadn’t realized she’d been holding had found it’s way out. 

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

 

In reality, school wasn’t as horrible as Michelle had anticipated. Overall, the first part of the day was pretty average. If anything it was actually a pretty decent distraction. There were even a few moments where she almost forgot about the tiny fugitive she was harboring in her uterus.

And she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t at least the teensiest bit thrilling to have this big secret that no one knew about. Something so big that nobody could even see.

Maybe that was what Peter felt like everyday. Minus the pregnant part.

First and second period, AP Literature and Calculus, went by without a hitch. They were kind of boring. Third period, AP US History was fine, again, pretty boring; the only problem being that she couldn’t really keep her eyes open for more than five minutes at a time. 

But really, it wasn’t that bad. 

However, she could only assume the day was going so swimmingly was because she hadn’t run into Peter yet.

There was the faintest feeling of guilt gnawing at her insides. She still hadn’t decided if, and what, she was going to tell him, and she didn’t know what she was going to do when she saw him. It wouldn’t be the best idea to just go up to him, say, “I’m pregnant,” and peace it on out of there. 

No, if she did this, if she told him, it would definitely have to be planned. 

She’d cross that bridge when she got to it.

* * *

 

That bridge happened to be at lunch, and didn’t cross it when she got to it.

She spent the entire lunch period trying her best to ignore the two nerds on the other side of the table, opting instead to bury her nose in a copy of  _ Pride and Prejudice _ , their incessant talking becoming merely white noise. She vaguely remembered them asking her questions about her night—this resulted in her almost completely closing herself off, only responding with a clipped, “fine.”

Clearly, she wasn’t ready to tell anyone. 

Their nerdy whispering wasn’t completely blocked out though. A few sentences here and there piqued her interest, but she chose to remain passive. 

“No, dude. Aragorn isn’t the king in  _ Return of the King, _ ” Ned explained. “It’s  _ Sam _ , obviously.” 

“Ned, Aragorn is literally a king at the end,” Peter argued, scoffing. 

“It doesn’t have to be taken literally!”

Out of the corner of her eye, without looking up, she could feel them throwing glances in her direction as they bickered. They were trying to goad her into a response; trying to see if they could get her to tell them that they’re both wrong, to say one snarky comment. 

But she wasn’t going to give in.

“Ned’s right,” she still didn’t look up, her voice apathetic, taking a drink from her water, her eyes never leaving the page she was on. 

Well, she could at least pick a side. 

The rest of the day was probably the most stressed Michelle had ever been—aside from the events in DC last year. 

She caught herself reading the same paragraph over and over during study hall; she had lost count of how many times Mr. Darcy congratulated himself for recently saving Mr. Bingley “from the inconveniences of a most imprudent marriage.” 

Drawing was also a bust; she couldn’t clear her mind enough to draw anything she actually wanted to draw, her thoughts racing and unable to slow, resulting in her pencil just making lazy circles in her journal. The most she got was a visibly pregnant stick figure with an exaggerated frowny-face. 

At this, she shoved both the journal and pencil roughly into her backpack.

The last bell couldn’t come soon enough; all that she had left was decathlon practice, and she could get through that easy. No problem. 

Except it was “problem.”

Yes problem.

_ Big _ problem. 

Now, as she was team captain and all that, she had to interact with each team member, ask them questions, tell them they’re right or wrong, you know, the works. It wasn’t hard at first, really it wasn’t, but then she had to let Peter answer some. Even without looking at him, she could  _ feel _ his eyes on her. Clearly, he noticed something was wrong, and for some god forsaken reason, he was dead set on getting her attention. Her only solution was to just ignore him, stare straight at the cards, anything but  _ at him _ . She had to. 

Honestly, she didn’t know what she would do if she made direct contact with those kind eyes. Cry? Scream? Laugh? Hell, if she knew, and she didn’t want to find out. 

Then, when they started practicing with bells. She thought that would be better, but it wasn’t. Peter kept ringing in and answering questions getting every single one right. At one point after he’d rang in for the billionth time, she just ignored him and called on Sally instead, much to the confusion of him and the entire team.

But after what felt like years and years of torture, the hour was up, and Michelle was finally free to go. Normally, she would have stayed behind to help clean up, but as soon as they were dismissed, she was gone. 

Right now, all she wanted to do was go home, schedule her damn appointment, lock herself in her room and take a seven-year nap. 

This—the holding back, the pretending to be fine—was a lot harder than she had anticipated. How could she possibly act like nothing's wrong, be her normal self, when shit like this happens? It was exhausting. The sort of mental and emotional gymnastics she had to do just to get through the day were enough to make her want to never leave her room again. 

It was beyond frustrating. Normally, she was someone who was so in check with their emotions, so in control, so uncaring. She was a professional at hiding what she was truly feeling. The best of the best. If being emotionally detached had been an Olympic sport, she would have gotten gold. Easily.

She hastily put in the combination to her locker; the sooner she got the hell out, the better. Pausing in her movements, she allowed herself a moment to breathe. As if her day could not get any worse,  she was now bombarded with the sudden overwhelming urge to cry, a pit growing in her stomach; she wasn’t sure if that was the sleep deprivation or the pregnancy hormones that were causing her to be this weepy, but she did not care for that  _ at all. _

“Hey, MJ,” a voice snapped her out of her self-pity party. 

She turned to see a pair of brown puppy-dog eyes staring at her. Peter stood, books at his side, brows knit ever so slightly together in concern as he offered a friendly smile. 

What was he doing here? Didn’t he have… Spider-Man-ing to do?

As if flipping a switch, Michelle tucked away all of those emotions from before. “Sup, loser?” She threw him a nod, her face blank and uncaring.

A+ acting skills. She could make a career out of those.

Peter rocked back and forth on his heels, pursing his lips. Clearly, something was on his mind. He was being awkward, but not his usual awkward. “How are you?” He asked, trying way too hard to sound casual. “How are things?”

She eyed him warily. “I’m good. You?” 

“Good, good. Just wanted to come by and uh, see what was up.”

“What was up?”

“Yeah, you just, uh,” he sputtered, scratching the back of his neck with the hand that wasn’t holding the books. “You’ve been acting kind of weird today,” her eyes narrowed at this, causing him to fumble over his words even more. “ _ You’re _ not weird. That’s not what I’m saying. You were just weird  _ today. _ But not like, ‘bad,’ weird… well… kind of ‘bad’ weird, just not, uh, your–yourself. You were kinda quiet today at lunch. And that whole thing in decathlon... Is everything... okay?”

Was she really that transparent?

Considering she hadn’t managed to act normal for a vast majority of the day: yes. Yes she was really that transparent. 

And just like that, at his concern for her well-being—something that was arguably a very bare minimum requirement for friendship—she felt the stupid urge to cry come right back, but she didn’t dare show it on her face. Choosing to ignore the tickle at the back of her throat, she scoffed. 

The amount that he cares is going to kill her, she’s sure, and she wants to tell him everything. But she just answers with a simple, “I’m fine,” followed by a tight-lipped smile. 

Peter clearly wasn’t convinced, worry still covering his face. “Did Ned do something? Did  _ I _ do something? I’m really sorry... for whatever it was.”

_ Um, yeah. You did something, alright.  _

Michelle closed her eyes, pushing the irritation away, in an effort to keep them from rolling back. “Neither of you did anything, okay?” 

His expression didn’t falter as he stared at her. 

God, he was making this hard. 

“I just got like three hours of sleep last night. I’m fine, really,” she added, laughing lightly as if it were really no big deal, sealing the deal by adding a playful, if not a little awkward, punch to the side of his arm. “But thanks for asking, ya big dork. Even if you did call me weird.” 

Peter’s worried expression melts into one of relief, though she can tell he’s still not super convinced. “Hey! I was really worried. You weren’t mean to me all day. It was really weird!” The tension in the air faded briefly as he brought his free hand up to rest on the spot she just punched. 

For the first time all day, she let out a genuine chuckle. The pit that was forming in her stomach was suddenly filled with dumb butterflies as he beamed at her. 

Even if they weren’t a couple, he was still such a good friend, and she instantly felt guilty for holding back such a major secret, especially one that directly involved him. 

And yeah, she wasn’t the only one hiding something; it was kind of a major bummer that Peter didn’t seem to trust her enough to tell her about Spider-Man. But that was his choice and she respected it. What he did in his spare time was none of her business because it didn’t really affect her. She wasn’t going to make him tell her, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to hold back this news just because he wouldn’t reveal his secret identity. 

“So, guess what.”

Peter’s face lit up in curiosity. “What?”

Plus, Michelle’s secret was totally different. This was the freaking procreation of human life. She knew that it was her body and her choice, and she didn’t technically  _ have _ to tell him anything, but for some reason, she felt like she  _ should _ . That it was the right thing to do. She’d just have to plan it out.

“I’m pregnant.”

Or just straight up say it. 

Judging by the way Peter’s books immediately fell to the floor and the high-pitched “What?!” that came out of him, maybe saying it like that, just blurting it out, wasn’t exactly her best idea. That confession seemed to have knocked the wind out of him, the only things coming out of his mouth being confused and shocked incoherent noises. 

With just two words, he had become the physical embodiment of, “????????????” 

She didn’t say anything else, her expression nonchalant, patiently waiting for his response. 

Finally, Peter managed to speak actual English. “You–You’re…” He paused, looking over both shoulders before whispering,  _ “Pregnant?!” _

“Yup,” she responded, emphasizing the ‘p’ with an audible  _ pop _ .

He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, no sound coming out at first. “Am–am I… Is it… Who? Who’s the… Is–Is it, uh–”

“Yours? No, it’s Principal Morita’s,” Michelle tried to joke, only a little bit amused by how Peter’s expression seemed to be stuck, but seeing as how he didn’t laugh, she stopped, uneasiness washing over her. “No, I’m kidding. You’re the dad. Of course you are.”

“But… but how?”

“It’s simple calculus. You were there. I was there. We had sex–”

“No, I know how!” Peter stopped her, his cheeks tinting red. He lowered his voice again, almost mumbling. “But like… We were careful. We used protection.”

“And it worked so well."

The quip was lost between them, a beat of tense silence passed before Peter spoke again. “What should we do?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Michelle shrugged, the casual air in her tone unchanging. She wanted to seem like she didn’t care, like this was no big deal, even if it was far from the truth. “I kinda figured I’d just… go and nip this in the bud. Before it gets any worse.”

Peter nodded, his lips pressing into a tight line. “Yeah, yeah totally. That makes sense. Being pregnant can sometimes lead to an... Infant. Baby. Child.”

An amused huff that she can’t really help comes out. “Yeah, that’s typically what happens.” Another beat of silence. “So, you good with that?”

“What? Yeah. Yeah yeah yeah. No doubt,” he said casually, though Michelle can still tell he is far from casual, relaxed, and cool about this whole thing. “You just do what you think is right. I’ll support you one-hundred percent.” 

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, no prob. What are friends for? Uhm–” He paused, scratching the back of his neck. “Do I need to go too?”

Michelle’s brows furrowed in confusion. “To what?”

“You’re… appointment. Cause since I’m the, uh, father and stuff.”

She let out a silent “oh,” understanding what he was getting at. “Nah, you’re good,” she waved him off, before adding quickly, “Plus, they said to set aside like two to four hours for the big show and… I know you don’t have time for stuff like that.”

Peter nodded. “Oh yeah, of course. Totally.”

The vibration of her phone was what pulled Michelle out of the moment. “Well,” she starts, checking it to see a text from dear old dad asking her to pull the chicken out of the freezer to let it thaw for dinner. That was her cue to leave. 

Peter had been dragged into this mess, something she didn’t really want to happen in the first place. She wasn’t sure how this was whole situation was going to change their dynamic, and that terrified her. Not knowing what else to say or how to end the conversation, she shuts her locker. “Sorry I had sex with you I guess? I know it wasn’t your idea or anything.” 

Once again, Peter’s face look like a slightly less intense deer caught in headlights. The blush returns to his cheeks and tips of his ears, and he stammers more, visibly flustered. “Wha—Whose idea was it?”

His question was ignored though, only met with a mumbled, “goodbye,” as Michelle walked away.

Peter was left still standing next to her locker, dazed and confused, now just talking to himself. “Whose idea was it?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was just a lot of introducing characters and exposition, but I promise that the plot will really take off in the next few! 
> 
> Again, thanks for reading!! <3


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another huge thank you to all you guys reading, commenting, and leaving kudos! It makes my heart so happy to know that people are enjoying this <3
> 
> This chapter does deal with some heavy stuff, so a little warning there.
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy!

As soon as Michelle got home from school, and after setting the frozen chicken on the counter like her dad had asked, she set up an appointment for Saturday at 12:30 PM.

Everything was going to be okay.

The exhaustion from so little sleep was soon catching up with her though. Three separate times, she caught herself almost falling asleep in her chicken at dinner, her eyelids drooping lazily as she started to nod off.

“Anyway, you should have seen the fridge this guy brings in…” Bill waved his hands around excitedly as he told a story about a clearly broken appliance that some guy tried to sell him. It wasn’t very interesting. Still, Linda, being the loving partner she was, listened intently as she cut up Annie’s chicken for her.

Michelle was dozing off again, her fork lazily pushing around the food on her plate.

“Em,” The voice of her dad startled her enough to snap her out of it.

Immediately, she sat up, shifting in her chair under her parents’ scrutinizing gaze. She shoveled a forkful of small peas into her mouth. “What?”

They asked how her day was and she shrugged in response, giving a non committal answer, one that just said, “meh.”

They asked how each of her friends were. Or, how both of her friends were, given that Peter and Ned were the only people she considered close enough to mention to her family.

She knew exactly what they were trying to do. It was the signature “subtle” way of prying that almost all parents employed when interrogating a secretive teen. The key to a kid’s emotions and troubles was through their friends. Maybe if something was up in the friend’s life then maybe that would be a clue...

To this, she also gave an impassive response, shrugging again. “They’re alright.”

She didn’t miss the look that was exchanged between Bill and Linda.

Annie lit up at the mention of her older sister’s best friend. “Is Peter your boyfriend yet?”

There were few times where MJ was annoyed with her little sister. Scratch that, there were a lot of times. The kid couldn’t help it though. She was only eight, after all; she was hard wired for bothering older siblings. Being an annoying little pest was basically built right in.

Michelle threw her a sharp, pointed look. “No.”

Normally, she wasn’t so cold with Annie, again the kid was only eight, but MJ had an excuse, and a very valid one at that: She was very pregnant, very tired, and she’d had a very long day.

Annie wiggled sassily in her chair, bringing a cut up piece of chicken to her mouth, chewing triumphantly. “Good.”

Yeah, it was also no secret that Annie had a bit of a crush on Peter; they had that in common. And hey, at least she had good taste.

Michelle huffed in annoyed amusement, shaking her head.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bill held his hands up. “No daughter of mine is dating that kid. He’s a menace.” He threw MJ a sly wink, his voice laced with humor. Linda smirked as she sipped from her glass.

Peter Parker was the farthest thing from that. He was harmless.

(Except when he has sex with their daughter and subsequently puts a baby in her.)

Michelle rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the faint grin that tugged at her lips.

After dinner, she retired to her room for the rest of the evening, physically and emotionally spent from her entire day. Neither of her parents seemed to notice; that or they had just decided not to comment on her reclusive behavior.

The rest of the week was probably the slowest Michelle had ever had the displeasure of experiencing in her entire life.

On Tuesday, she was struck with what was possibly the worst, most unrelenting nausea she’d ever had. For the entire day, her insides felt as if someone had taken them into a vice-like grip, twisting and pulling.

Wednesday, she had stabbing heartburn that radiated from her head to her toes from lunch until she got home.  

She thought she was safe on Thursday until she puked once in the shower during her morning ritual, and another time during fifth period, _and_ almost peed her pants during gym class. She skipped decathlon practice on Friday, leaving Cindy in charge, her nerves becoming too overwhelming to be able to focus on anything remotely academic.

Saturday morning, _the_ day finally came, Michelle woke up to a text from Peter.

 **Peter:** What time is ur appointment again?

 **MJ:** 12:30.

 **MJ:** I already told you that you don’t have to come

 **Peter:** Yeah I know. I just wanted to know if u wanted to come over after? We can watch as much Bob’s Burgers as u want

 **MJ:** Idk do you promise to keep it in your pants and not impregnate me again?

 **MJ:** jk jk jk

 **Peter:** Im literally begging you to stop

 **Peter:** So do u wanna come? We can get ice cream too if u want. I just figured you’d want something to take ur mind off of stuff

 **MJ:** Okay. Idk how long it’ll take but I’m guessing I’ll probably come over around 3 or 4. I might need you to come pick me up though. I’ll let you know

 **Peter:** Sounds good! See u then.

Michelle hated the way her heart was hammering in her chest. She stared at his last text, over and over again, partially annoyed and a little perplexed that he refused to type the word, “you” out fully, but in an earlier text had spelled, “you’d.” With an apostrophe. What was the point of that? Was it that much harder to just type out the whole word, or at least be consistent?

But that was not important (at the moment, she’d roast him later).

At first, she had regretted telling him about this whole pregnancy thing, but now, after the week from hell, any hint of regret she felt vanished. The past few days were hard, yes, but throughout the entire week, Peter was there for her. It wasn’t much now, but it was still the only form of support she could actually get at this point.

After sending three thumbs-up emojis back, she sat up in bed. Her giddiness was short lived though; soon, the gravity of the situation once again weighed heavily on her shoulders. She knew that it would all be over by this afternoon, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety that washed over her. As mature as she thought she was, that didn’t change the fact that she was still just a kid; she shouldn’t have to go through something like this.

She spent a majority of the morning mentally preparing herself as much as she could. She’d read countless articles about what exactly went down in the examination room, some that included various other options she could take. It turns out, the whole process was a lot more like an actual medical procedure than what the media portrayed it to be. There was a pill option, but that would mean having to have the whole thing done at home, and that wasn’t really something Michelle felt like she could handle. The other two options were done at the clinic, but she was still confused as to how exactly they went down. She would just have to make sure to have the doctor explain them.

Though it wasn’t by much, getting as informed as she possibly could helped to soothe her anxiety.

Before she knew it, it was 11:30. One hour to go. She grabbed a granola bar to go, telling her parents that she was hanging out at Peter’s today (it wasn’t technically a lie), and mumbled a goodbye as the door shut behind her.

The walk to the clinic was actually pretty eventful. There were a couple of times where she saw the unmistakable flash of red and blue swing from building to building. Funnily enough, it kept happening. She kept seeing him. He was following her.

Despite her mood, she smirked. Really, he wasn’t being as subtle as he thought he was. He had of course maintained a fairly sizable distance from her, perhaps in an effort to not be caught in the act, but clearly he underestimated her observation skills.

At one point, just to see if her suspicions were correct or if it was just a coincidence, she turned into an alley that was not on her route. Yeah, she was on a time crunch, but she could always spare a minute to mess with Peter.

Sure enough, she heard the familiar ‘thwip’ of his web behind her. Again, he wasn’t sneaky or quiet. How he managed to catch bad guys all the time, she’d never figure out.

She gave it a few seconds before swiftly turning on her feet, looking behind her.

The eyes of Spider-Man’s suit widened comically as he fell from his place on the wall. He yelped, trying to turn his clumsy mistake into a smooth landing. He rose awkwardly, wiping the dirt from his red and blue spandex.

Michelle quirked a brow at him expectantly.

“Oh, hello Mi—ma’am,” he cleared his throat, acting as if he had just noticed her there, tipping his non-existing hat. His voice was deeper, a heavy stereotypical Queens accent being used in a lame attempt at a disguise. “Ah, everything okay?”

“Are you following me?”

Spider-Man doubled-back in shock, the whites of his eyes nearly taking over the black outline. “What? No! Of course not!”  He waved her off, scoffing. “Nah, just, uh… you know passing by.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Making sure things are good in the hood—the _neighbor_ hood,” He points finger guns at her, laughing nervously.

In truth, it was kind of sweet that he was concerned, but the sweetness was overshadowed by how unnecessary and, arguably a little weird it all was. “Good talk,” she starts, adjusting her small backpack, after he stares at her for just a little too long. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got a very important meeting to go to, so I’ll catch ya later.”

She starts to leave but is interrupted by his normal voice. “Wait!”

Turning, she eyes him with just a hint of impatience. “What?”

He nervously points to her bag, then scratches the back of his neck. “Do you— Do you need help with that? It looks a little heavy.”

“What, you don’t think I’m strong enough?” She accuses, though she knows he’s only asking out of concern, even if it is a little misplaced. She’s pregnant, but she’s not _that_ pregnant. She can still carry things. Plus, it’s not heavy even in the slightest.

Still, she likes seeing him squirm.

Again, his eyes widen comically. “No! No, not at all! I just— I—Uh—”

“See ya, loser,” she laughs, not really able to tell if she’s more annoyed or touched.

It doesn’t matter though, because she has somewhere to be. She gets back on track and continues her trek to the clinic.

It was evident, however, that even after catching him in the alleyway, he still maintained a loose follow.

Oh, well.

When she reached the building, she turned and threw him a stiff wave, startling him into losing his grip on his webbing, falling unceremoniously into a nearby dumpster.

She smiled at that.

A blast of cool air washed over Michelle’s body as she stepped into the clinic. The waiting room walls were solid white, the top edges running with accented hues of blue and yellow light. Past the front desk, she could see walls that were various other shades of the rainbow; green, purple, pink, orange. The constant hum of the air conditioning provided tranquil white noise. Overall, it was a very pleasant place. But the serene atmosphere was overshadowed by the chemically clean smell of sterilization, the one that every type of medical facility smells like.

Michelle never liked it.

The receptionist greeted her with a smile as she approached the front desk. “What can I help you with today?”

Though she tried her hardest, Michelle couldn’t really match the friendliness of the woman. “I’m, uh, here for an appointment,” she responded, her lips pressing together into a tight smile.

“And your name, please?”

“Michelle Jones.”

“Okay,” the receptionist began typing away at her computer, her lips pursed in concentration. She passed a wary glance at the teenager. She asked her a few questions about insurance and what not. “And how old are you, Michelle?”

“Sixteen.”

The almost apologetic look that flashed across the receptionist’s face did not go unnoticed by Michelle. After finishing whatever she was typing up, she slid a clipboard of forms across the counter. “Okay, hon, fill these out, and when you’re done we’ll get you all set up!”

With a wordless nod, thinking to herself that this lady seemed a little too enthusiastic for her job, Michelle took the forms and practically threw herself into one of the blue chairs, earning a glare from one of the other patients.

  
Filling out the papers didn’t take very long; it was mostly just your average, everyday medical forms you fill out at the doctor’s office. Generic patient info, medical history, payment information, etc.

Minutes after finishing the paperwork, Michelle heard the door to the rest of the clinic open, a nurse stepping through, calling her name.

After that, everything seemed to just happen, the next hour flying by. She met with a cool, young (about early to mid-thirties) lady, Dr. Gaines. She was really nice, maybe a little too peppy for MJ’s liking. But from her short interactions with her, Michelle could tell that the doctor was genuine, and was dead set on making sure her patients were as comfortable as humanly possible.

“Okay, Michelle, do you happen to know the date of conception?” Dr. Gaines asked, looking up from her tablet as she finished typing out Michelle’s answer to the previous question. “And have you been sexually active since then?”

Michelle’s brows furrowed, her lips pursing in thought. “I’d say it’s been about two months and four days since _the_ sex. But that’s just my best guestimation. I don’t know the exact date.” _It was July 5th._

She could see Dr. Gaines bite back a small, but amused smile.

“And, uh no. I’m off sex.”

A little after that, and after a few more questions, a nurse came in and drew some of Michelle’s blood, it was nothing she couldn’t handle.

Dr. Gaines decided that they should go ahead and do an ultrasound, just to be sure they knew exactly how far along the pregnancy was so they could choose the best course of action.

Eight weeks.

It was eight weeks. Michelle remembered learning in health class that eight weeks was when you could hear the heartbeat. That was interesting.

Soon enough, she ended up back in the exam room on the bed, Dr. Gaines sitting on the stool across from her. “Okay lady, I know you’re smart so you’ve probably already googled all of this,” she wasn’t wrong. “But I just want to go over all of your options here before you make a decision, okay?”

For some reason, Michelle was finding it increasingly harder and harder to find coherent words. So, she settled for a nod, bringing a hand to rest on her collarbone, feeling the light thump of her heartbeat against her clammy fingers.

Dr. Gaines went on to explain everything, making sure to answer any and every question Michelle had. She briefly explained the pill, but Michelle was quick to shut that one down. If she was going to do this thing, she wanted to just get it over with.

Then, Dr. Gaines explained the other two types of procedure; suction and dilation/evacuation and the differences between them. The former was the more common choice, while the latter was more often used for pregnancies of longer than sixteen weeks after the last menstrual cycle. It was all basically everything Michelle had already read online, but she just couldn’t find it in herself to speak up, only half-listening over the soft sound of her heartbeat drumming in her ears.

Once Michelle decided that a suction abortion would be the best option, Dr. Gaines went on to explain in great detail what exactly was going to happen, along with what special care after the procedure would be needed.

Reading it all online and hearing it in real life were two totally different things. Now that she was here, and now that she was hearing it from a real person, it was becoming much more intimidating. The whole thing involved injections, dilating rods, suction (obviously), and some scraping device. Then, she’d have to stay a few extra hours in the clinic before she was even allowed to go home, and even then, she’d need someone to actually come get her.

Noticing Michelle’s unease, Dr. Gaines added, “During the actual procedure, we do numb you, but we can also sedate you if you’re still concerned about pain. We have two types; one, you’ll be awake, but completely relaxed. The other, you’ll be asleep. Either way, there is a very small chance you’ll feel anything.”

While Michelle was genuinely worried about how much it would hurt, the pain was becoming the last thing she was thinking about. She found that she wasn’t able to think about _anything_ at all _._

At her silence, the doctor put the tablet down. “Would you like to think about it?” She asked softly, standing up. “I can step out until you decide.”

Once again, Michelle only nodded, biting at the pads of her thumbs. The door clicked shut as Dr. Gaines left, and Michelle groaned, letting her head fall back as she stared up at the ceiling. Something was wrong. Not with Dr. Gaines. Not with the building. Not even the procedure itself. She didn’t know what it was. The tightening in her chest was getting harder and harder to ignore, the racing of her heart now practically thundering in her ears.

She didn’t know what was wrong, but she knew she had to get out of there.

Without a second thought, Michelle rushed out of the exam room, practically sprinting down the hall, and out of the building.

She couldn’t go home, not like this; so she went to the next best place she could think of.

She barely remembered climbing the stairs to the seventh floor, skipping steps all the way up, leaving her breathless as she reached the top. She felt numb as she pounded on the door, trying to catch her breath, cursing silently. She started talking before the door was even completely open. “Peter, I couldn’t do it. I’m so sorry, I couldn’t—”

“Michelle!” But it wasn’t Peter. It was Aunt May, who was clearly very, very worried. “Michelle, honey, what’s wrong? What couldn’t you do?”

It was at this point, Michelle realized that a few tears had managed to make their way down her face, something she didn’t remember happening at all. She doesn’t answer, but immediately shuts her mouth, shaking her head. “I’m sorry—I can go.”

“Nonsense, come in!” Before she can protest, May pulls her into the apartment and sits her at the dining table before disappearing into the kitchen. She comes back with a glass of water and a box of tissues and places both on the table in front of her.

Michelle timidly grabbed a tissue, wiping the stray tears from her cheeks, thankful that it wasn’t more, before taking a sip of water, mumbling out a quiet thank you. “Is Peter home?” She finally asks, not looking up at the older woman.

“No, he went to the store,” May responds, taking a seat next to Michelle. That was a lie; he was on afternoon patrol. But that didn’t matter. A beat of silence passed between them. “Is everything okay? Do you want me to call your parents?”

At that, Michelle vehemently shook her head. “No! No. Everything’s fine.” May still didn’t seem convinced. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Too late,” May offered a comforting smile. “Is it anything you want to talk about?”

Honestly, sometimes both Parkers were too damn kind and caring for Michelle to handle, the older one especially.

Aunt May always seemed to have the kitchen stocked with hers, and Ned’s favorite snacks and sodas, even though she and Peter didn’t really eat/drink them. She always made sure that they had rides home from their sleepovers, from practice, from meets.

Michelle remembered after the D.C. incident, after everyone had come back and reunited with their parents, May insisted on waiting with MJ, even after she turned down a ride home, and at that point she wasn’t even that close with Peter. Another time, she gave Michelle a warm, motherly hug after the team won regionals, saying how proud she was of all of them.

After not even a full year of being friends with Peter, May had essentially become a third parent to Michelle. She wasn’t nearly ready to tell her own parents about what happened, but she needed to tell a rational adult, one that would help her figure out what the hell went wrong at the clinic.

She knew that May was someone she could trust.

Still, that didn’t make this any easier.

Michelle was silent, but May didn’t press any more, and instead just sat with her. The teen sighed, not looking up from the crumpled up tissue she held in her lap. “I’m, uh—” She sniffed, shaking her head, the words getting caught in her throat.

The idea of telling May was almost as daunting as telling Peter. It was different though. May wasn’t a teenage boy, but an actual grown up—one that Michelle really really didn’t want to let down. Peter was her friend, he had to be supportive. But May was someone she really looked up to. The thought of disappointing her put a knot in MJ’s stomach.

But she knew that if she was going to get through this, she was going to need some help.

“I’m pregnant.”

May took in a sharp intake of breath, her eyes widening. “Oh, god.”

Then Michelle told her everything. Well, almost everything. It was probably best to not mention the whole “I had sex with your nephew and now he’s the baby daddy,” for now. That was conveniently left out. May seemed shocked enough at the fact that this sixteen year old, who seemed to have a pretty good head on her shoulders, had to go through all the ropes of being pregnant at her age.

Michelle told her about the clinic.

“I just don’t get it,” Michelle hated the fact that her voice was so shaky, that she could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes. She was not someone who wore their emotions on their sleeve, but with teenage and pregnancy hormones combined, she was a mess. She loathed it. “Is there something wrong with me?”

May placed a comforting hand on her arm, squeezing it. “Nothing is wrong with you. This kind of thing happens to lots of women.”

“I did _so_ much research and prep for this, I knew what I was getting into, and then for some reason, I just froze up. I couldn’t do it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about this, Michelle.”

“I can’t help it,” she could feel herself getting angry, not at May, but at herself. “I couldn’t make what should have been a stupidly easy decision.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that. Everything you felt, every emotion was valid,” May gave her arm a firm squeeze. “Whatever choice you made, might not have been the best for someone else, but it was the best one for _you_ at that time _._ And whatever you decide to do from here on out, if you wanna try the clinic again, if you don’t, that’s okay. That’s _your_ decision, and you’ll get through this.”

The lump in Michelle’s throat felt like it was going to take over her entire body. “Thanks,” was all she could manage.

May’s lips tugged up into a small, but kind smile. “Do your parents know?”

“No,” she replied. “I wasn’t really planning on telling them either, because this whole shitshow was supposed to be taken care of today, but now I kind of have to.”

“Michelle,” May started. “I hope you know that you aren’t alone in all of this. There are so many people who love you and will do whatever they can to get you through this. If you need anything at all, you call, okay?”

Thanks to these stupid hormones, Michelle felt the tears cloud her vision again, but not letting any of them fall. “Thank you.”

“I’m sure whoever the father is will be willing to help, too, if you ask,” May added, patting her leg.

Michelle gave a breathy laugh. “Yeah, he’s in this just as much as I am.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, and I hope I’m not being too nosy, but you do know who it is?”

“Uh– yeah.”

“Is it a boyfriend?”

“No, it’s not–”

Peter Parker had to have the absolute worst timing in the entire world. As soon as May asked that question, the door to Peter’s room swung open, said boy stepping through the threshold, looking all sorts of disheveled from his time on patrol. “May, I’m back—” He froze, seeing Michelle, panic and bewilderment crossing his expression when he saw the tears brimming in her eyes. “Oh, hey MJ. What—what are you doing here? You said you wouldn’t be here till four.”

May was a smart lady, she didn’t need much help in putting the pieces together. She glanced between the two of them, the realization dawning on her. “Oh, my god.”

“What? What’s going on?” Peter looked between them frantically.

His aunt just buried her head in her hands. “Oh, my _god!_ ” She wasn’t yelling, but she clearly wasn't happy. At all.

Peter looked to Michelle for an answer, still confused. Upon seeing the guilt on her face, however, he knew. “You told her??”

“Yeah…”

“ _MJ!”_

“I didn’t tell her about you—”

“Wait, why not??”

“Okay!” May interrupted, finally collecting her thoughts. “Everybody calm down. Peter, sit.” she passed him a stern glare, pointing to the chair across from her. “It’s not her fault. _I_ asked _her_.” She huffed, gesturing between her and MJ for emphasis, before running a stressed hand through her hair. “Alright, guys,”she took a deep breath. “Help me understand. When did this happen?”

Peter answered first. “Beginning of July.”

To say that May was shocked at how both teens had successfully kept this a secret for so long would have been an understatement. She hadn’t suspected a thing. Her eyes narrowed at her nephew; she shook her head. “Peter, what were you thinking?”

Michelle sat in silence, staring at her hands as she listened to the two Parkers, neither giving each other any room to put a word in.

“It was an accident!”

“I thought I raised you better than that!”

“You did! We used protection, I promise! Stop freaking out!”

“I can’t believe this. I just—how did I not notice?”

“May, just listen—”

“I just don’t get it!”

“May, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry— Please, just don’t be mad. MJ and I,” he looked over at his friend, throwing her a silent apology. “We’ll figure something out. I’m sorry.” His voice had begun to trail off, speaking with less conviction. “Just… please don’t be mad…”

Aunt May stood from her seat, placing a comforting hand on her nephew’s shoulder, sighing heavily in an attempt to calm her frayed nerves. “Honey, I’m not mad. Surprised? Yes. Disappointed? You bet. But I’m not mad,” she looked to Michelle. “I’m not mad at either of you, okay? You guys made a dumb mistake, don’t get me wrong, but me being angry isn’t going to help the situation any.”

Both teens nodded solemnly.

“Everything is going to be okay,” She added, not just as a comfort to the scared teens in front of her, but to herself as well. “We’re going to figure this out.”

The roaring silence that followed was almost deafening. May, feeling the awkwardness in the room, clapped her hands together. It was clear that Michelle and Peter still needed to talk. Alone. Now was her time to exit. “Well,” she said, her smile a little lackluster. “I’m going to my room for a thing that I need. Yeah, so if you kids need me, I’ll be in my room. With the door closed.”

When she left, they shared an uncomfortable laugh, tension still thick in the air.

Michelle found it nearly impossible to look directly at him, so she settled for a nice lamp in the corner of the room. She chewed at the inside of her lip, trying to come up with something, _anything_ , to say.

Peter was just as quiet as she was. He sat in his place, absently tapping his fingers on the table, his expression vacant.

She couldn’t take the silence anymore. “I’m sorry for telling May.”

Peter let out a nervous laugh. “It’s okay,” He paused, choosing his next words carefully. Really it wasn’t any of his business, but... “Why didn’t you get the—what, uh happened?” He was curious.

Michelle sighed dejectedly. “I just… couldn’t do it.”

He waited a moment for her to elaborate, but when she didn’t he nodded. “Oh…”

It’s not that she didn’t want to tell him, or that she felt he didn’t get to know. She just didn’t want to go over all the nitty gritty details, all of that… emotional stuff again. Baring her soul once a day was more than enough, thank you very much. She was tired, and more than anything, she wanted things to be normal again. “I’m sorry,” Michelle mumbled in her hand, her elbow resting on the table.

He seemed surprised by the apology. “MJ, don’t be sorry. It’s okay. Really.” For a moment, she thought he was going to reach out and touch her, comfort her, but he held himself back.

“No, it’s not,” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “This isn’t fair to you.”

This time, Peter did move closer to her, though still not making an effort to actually touch, scooting his chair over just enough. “I’m serious. It’s okay,” he said earnestly. “Um,” he started again, debating whether or not he should continue. “Why didn’t you tell May that it was me?”

“I didn’t want you to get in trouble,” she replied simply.

“Oh,” Peter sat back a little. “Thanks.”

“And I didn’t know how she’d react to finding out that I boned her nephew.”

That response earned a surprised, if not a little embarrassed, snort from Peter.

The quiet that fell over them was less uncomfortable than before.

Peter cleared his throat. “So what do we do now?”

Honestly, MJ didn’t know what else there was to do. There wasn’t much of a choice here. Clearly, the two of them were in no way equipped to be honest-to-god parents.

“We could just do it all Moses and the reeds style, you know? Put it in a basket in the river. I’ll sing a lullaby or something. Kick it old school. Or I figure we can just give the thing to a couple of nice lesbians, or something like that,” Michelle was slowly going back to her normal mood, thankful that the emotional part of her mood swing was finally letting up. “Does that sound good?”

“Yeah, totally,” Peter agreed, huffing in amusement. “There’s websites for finding couples I’m sure.”

Michelle wordlessly nodded, twiddling her thumbs in her lap.

Both grew silent once again, the reality setting in; they were really gonna do this thing. It was gonna happen.

“I’m sorry.”

Michelle tilted her head. “Wait why are you sorry?”

“I mean—” Peter’s eyes briefly glanced down to her stomach, not really able to explain himself in actual human sentences. “About _that_. And I’m sorry I got mad.”

“Peter, we both did this,” She scoffed, gesturing to where he had looked before. “Why were you mad?”

“It’s just—” If at all possible, Peter seemed to get even more nervous than he already was. “I wasn’t mad at you. I figured if we were gonna tell May, we would tell her together. I wanted to be there to help. Kinda be emotional support and stuff. And—”

“Peter, I swear to god, if you make me cry, I will end you.”

“I’m serious, MJ!”

“I am too!” Despite the prickling behind her eyes, she laughed. “I’m going to cry if you don’t shut up, loser.”

Peter smiled at her, and she felt the butterflies all over again. His smile faded slowly as he fixed a meaningful gaze. “I can only imagine what it is you’re going through, and I wanna help in whatever way I can. If that’s going with you to appointments or something, if it’s carrying all your stuff, if it’s getting you food, or if it’s backing off completely, I’ll do whatever you need.”  

Her lip quivered, a barely noticeable movement. Damn it, she would _not_ cry. “Well, gee. Thanks, loser. That’s really sweet,” she managed in as sarcastic a tone as she could muster, shaking her head in a teasing laugh to fight off any emotion.

Peter didn’t seem affected by her joking, he just smiled bashfully. With only the faintest hint of hesitation, he placed a clammy hand on top of hers. “Anytime. What are friends for?”

Okay, first he was _this close_ to making her cry, and now here he was making her heart race and her stomach flutter even more so than before.

_Ugh._

The opening and closing of the front door startled them both, turning to see Ned Leeds, Certified Moment Killer™, step into the room, a video game tucked under his arm. “Dude dude dude LEGO Star Wars, episodes seven and eight, _and_ Rogue One, let’s go— oh, hey MJ.”

Michelle gave a small wave; Peter yanked his hand away, nearly falling out of his chair at the force.

Ned immediately noticed the weird sort-of tension in the air. He warily glanced between the two, thoroughly confused. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” both of them responded at the same time, a little too quickly to be any kind of convincing.

Ned threw a skeptical sideways glance at them; he wasn’t dumb. “What is it?”

“You brought LEGO Star Wars?” Peter’s voice came out high and breathy.

Their friend looked down at the game in his hand, shrugging. “Uh, yeah, but it can wait. What were you guys—”

“Well," Michelle practically shouted, cutting Ned off. “I best be hittin’ the ol’ dusty trail,” she continued, throwing in an overdramatic southern twang, patting her legs as she stood. “You guys go ahead. I’ve gotta be home for dinner.”

Ned, now more suspicious than ever, narrowed his eyes at her, his head tilting. “It’s three pm though?”

“Is it?” Michelle questioned. With those words, Michelle said she’d text Peter later, throwing him a ‘ _say anything and I will kill you’_ look—which confused and annoyed Ned even more so than before—and left the apartment, making sure to thank Aunt May on her way out.

Michelle didn’t end up telling her parents that night. Or the next. Or the one after that. She would tell herself that it wasn’t the right time, that it had to be perfect. But she knew she was only putting off the inevitable, buying herself more time. In reality, there would never be a right time to break the news.

It was unclear whether or not she was actually going to feel better after telling them, but she knew she had to do it. She could only hide being pregnant for so long.

Not knowing what was going to happen, not just with her parents, with everything else too, wasn’t just scary. It was absolutely terrifying. Michelle liked knowing. She liked being ready. And now, she was clueless. Utterly helpless.

A good night’s sleep had become even more of an elusive thing over the next few days. It had turned into this mythical concept that she had only ever heard of, but never experienced fully. No matter how tired, how exhausted she was, it was nearly impossible for her to get any decent rest. She’d tossed onto her other side, pulling the blanket tighter around her body, willing herself to drift off faster.

The only thing she could do right now, laying in bed at nearly two o'clock in the morning, was hope for the best.

_Hope for the best. Ugh._

Well, no shit. She hated that phrase. Why would anyone in their right mind ever hope for the worst? The almost best? It made no sense. Just say, “hope,” leave out the “for the best.”

Still, as bad as everything was, and as scary as the future currently seemed, Michelle knew that she wouldn’t have to face it alone.

After hours of tossing and turning, she finally felt the very missed weight of sleep begin to pull, her once clear thoughts now fading. She clutched the blanket in one hand, her other unconsciously resting itself over her stomach.

No, she wasn’t alone at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a disclaimer: I did a lot of research involving planned parenthood and abortions, but I do not claim to be an expert, so if anything was a little inaccurate, I apologize for that. 
> 
> Also i live for Supportive!Aunt May. Or just Aunt May in general. Thank you for coming to my TED talk
> 
> Thanks again for reading!!


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you everyone reading and commenting and what not! I love hearing what you think about the story and your predictions!! <3 
> 
> This chapter starts in Peter's POV and then shifts to MJ's by the end. There will def be more chapters in the future that deal with more of Peter's side of things, but I hope this is a good start! Hope you guys enjoy!!

Peter’s mechanical pencil hung from his mouth, caught between his teeth as he nervously chewed at the cap. 

It had been only a couple of days since he and Michelle made the decision to go the adoption route; since their weird moment at the table, where his hand was on top of hers, where they connected with only a few short words, the one where Ned interrupted them with the promise of a fun LEGO game.  

It’s all he can really think about for some reason. 

Michelle, not the LEGO game.

This whole situation has left him in some sort of daze, understandably so. He’d only been sixteen for a few months and he only just found out in the past week that he was going to be a father. He had every right to be at least a little bit shell shocked. It was a lot for him to process, and to tell the truth, it was making things kinda difficult though—not that he had it worse than MJ, of course, he wasn’t the one who was actually pregnant, and he’d never ever try to compare it. And he’d never complain to MJ’s face.

But still. 

He was a mess.

Being able to sit still and concentrate in class hasn’t been this impossible since he first got his powers. After-school rounds had been harder than usual; he’s missed more than a couple of easy jumps and swings, falling clumsily to the ground below, ramming into the side of buildings because he’s been so stuck in his head, thinking about what all of this  _ means. _

Thankfully, no one’s  _ really _ noticed. 

“Dude, you good?” Well, except maybe Ned. “You spaced on me again.”

Peter was jarred out of his reflective state, hastily nodding his head, hoping he didn’t seem too suspicious. “What? Yeah, I’m good,” He scoffed, waving his hand casually. “What makes you think I’m not?” 

He only faltered a little at Ned’s deadpan expression.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” 

Peter mumbled out a quiet, “No,” before returning his attention to the calc assignment in front of him. To be completely honest, Peter wasn’t all that “good,” and he didn’t really need anyone pointing out the obvious.

But Ned wasn’t dumb; he’s known Peter long enough to know when something is up. 

“So... “ Ned goes on, eyeing his friend. “You gonna tell me or not?”

Dropping the pencil, Peter rubbed his eyes in frustration. “There’s nothing to tell,” he grumbled, not looking up from the complex integral. 

Ned rolled his eyes. “Dude, seriously? Something’s obviously wrong. C’mon,” he pressed. “I’m your best friend! Guy in the chair! You can tell me anything.”

And there it was; the all-inclusive guilt trip Peter definitely did not sign up for. 

This was his best friend in the entire world, his guy in the chair, the guy who saved him from the Shocker 2.0, the guy who said he was watching porn during homecoming just to protect his identity, the guy who kept the biggest secret of his life; Peter really could tell him anything. 

In his heart, Peter knew that as freaked out as Ned would be about this whole thing, he would still be there for him—and Michelle—no matter what. 

But Peter also knew that there was the potential of his bestie being mad that he wasn’t told about this whole thing earlier.

After all, losing your v-card can be a pretty big deal for anyone.

And getting someone pregnant, accidentally or not, was on a whole other level.

But even with all of that, he still wasn’t sure if it was his place to tell Ned. Sure, technically speaking, he and Michelle were both at fault here—she didn’t make this baby on her own. And sure, Michelle did kind of give him permission to spill the beans. They weren’t going to just give out that info freely, but if someone were to directly ask about it, they wouldn’t lie. 

But Peter had this nagging feeling that he should either ask her permission first, or they’d announce it together. He couldn’t help it.

They both knew that eventually, word would get out, they wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore, their little secret revealed in time, but it still felt weird just… telling people. Even Ned.

This was just so… personal.

“Peter!” Ned threw an eraser in his direction, annoyed at being ignored for the billionth time,  once again snapping Peter back to reality.

“Sorry! Sorry,” Peter threw his hands up in defense, startled. He was silent for another moment, feeling the steely glare of his best friend. “It’s just… It’s a lot. And—And I don’t know if I can talk about it right now.” It wasn’t completely a lie. 

“Ugh, please just tell meeeee,” Ned let out an exasperated sigh, sinking dramatically into the chair.

To tell the truth, Peter did feel bad. A little. “I’m just really stressed, okay? And this whole thing is just… It’s crazy.”

“Is it about the Avengers?” Ned perked up, only for a moment, excited at the notion of a super intense, dangerous, top-secret mission.

“No,” Peter dismissed quickly.

Ned shrank, dejected. “Oh.”

“It’s more…” Peter struggled to find the words, but he couldn’t. “It’s nothing like that.” He really didn’t know how to describe it. Where would he even start? 

Well, besides just straight up coming out with it. 

“Fine,” Ned dropped his books on the floor, reaching for his phone. The bitterness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. “I’ll just ask MJ. You guys seem to be getting super close anyway.”

“No!” Peter leapt up from where he was sitting on the floor, swiftly yanking the phone out of his friend’s grasp. “Don’t—” He paused, noticing Ned’s wide-eyed, surprised expression. “Don’t ask MJ. Please.”

“Oh, my God!! She knows?? I was just bluffing, man!!”

“Ned—”

“You told her, but not me?? What the hell?”

“I didn’t tell her anything, okay? She only knows because—”

“Oh, my God, she’s in on it!” Ned whisper-shouted, hurt and upset that his two best friends were keeping something from him. “Are you guys going to kick me out of the group chat? Are you guys plotting against me? This isn’t fair! I was friends with her first!!”

“No, Ned. Please just—” 

“It all makes sense. You’ve both been acting so weird and quiet lately. I’m being replaced. I can’t believe this—”

“Ned!” Peter shouted, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He wasn’t sure if he could handle this guilt any longer. Ned would have to find out at some point, and he didn’t want to drag this out any more than he had to. “I’ll tell you. Just please stop freaking out, okay?”

Ned clamped his mouth shut, nodding profusely. 

“Okay,” Peter sighed, not knowing where to even start. He wasn’t sure how he was going to say any of this. At all. 

A few minutes of silence passed between them, Ned’s eyes following as Peter paced the room back and forth, his hands wringing together. Clearly, this was a bigger deal than Ned had thought. Maybe even bigger than Spider-Man.

Nah. Nothing could be bigger than that. 

“So,” Peter’s voice started again, cracking slightly. It’d probably be best just to ease him into it. “Remember this summer when you went to Denver?”

Ned nodded, slightly confused. “Yeah, what about it?”

“And you remember how you were mad that MJ and I were doing that Friends marathon without you?”

“Yup, still mad about it.”

“Well—Um…” Peter chuckled nervously, not really sure why he was laughing at such a serious situation. “We were hanging out—just me and MJ. Watching Friends. Then it was over. And, uh, we kinda…” Another chuckle. “Um… had…” All the years of health class and a pretty solid sexual education, and Peter still couldn’t really get the words out. “We did  _ it. _ ” His voice trailed off, the last words being almost inaudible. 

“It?” Ned asked, his eyebrows crinkling as he stared blankly.

_ “It.” _

The confusion was still evident in Ned’s expression. “It…” Ned’s eyes widened, the realization dawning on him. “Wait wait wait waitwaitwaitwait,”  He gasped, practically shrieking, “YOU HAD SEX WITH MJ?!” 

“I told you to stop freaking out!!”

“How am I supposed to not freak out right now?!” Ned nearly fell out of the chair in shock, clutching his chest as he choked and coughed, his reaction causing Peter to flinch. 

Nothing could have prepared Ned for this bomb. “You had sex—with MJ, our  _ best friend _ —and you didn’t tell me?? What the hell, man?? I didn’t even know you liked her like that!!”

Hearing it—both the sex and the feelings for Michelle—spoken out loud was something else entirely. Just talking about it was bringing up memories of that night, which wasn’t helping at all. Peter blushed a deep crimson. “I’m sorry! I didn’t really know either… I mean, obviously she’s really pretty and everything. And cool. And smart. And funny. And just awesome in general but—”

“How did it even happen?” Ned asked, throwing his hands up in confusion, demanding an explanation.

Peter shrugged. “I’m not really sure. It just kinda… happened.”

“Dude, it doesn’t just ‘kinda happen,’” Ned mocked him. 

“It did! I dunno… At one point we were watching Friends and next thing I knew we were making out… and then… yeah.” He finished that last part with a foolish shrug. 

“Well why did you do it??”

“I don’t know, Ned! It was just… really in the moment. Like, it felt right… I guess.”

“Okay, but, like,” Ned looked mildly offended, folding his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me? Did you think I’d judge you or something?” 

“No, it’s not that.” Peter sighed again, unsure of how to answer.  _ He _ didn’t even know. “It just… I dunno. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal… we didn’t really talk about it after. And it didn’t feel right to just tell you, you know? It’s not just anyone; it’s  _ MJ. _ It kinda just felt like something that was supposed to be between me and her.”

“Oh my god,” Ned, still very, very shell shocked, was able to bring down his volume. His eyes widened again. “You  _ love _ her!”

That accusation kicked Peter right in the chest. If possible, the redness in his face seemed to grow. “I—I do not! It’s a lot more complicated than that, okay?”

“You _ do!” _

“Ned,  _ please.”  _ Peter practically begged. “Just, listen, okay? I’m not done.”

“There’s more?? What? Have you guys been hooking up since then and not telling me and that’s why you’re pushing me out—”

“No!” Peter cut him off, his tone coming off a little more harsh than he had intended. “No,” he repeated quietly, throwing his friend an apologetic look. “I told you, we didn’t even talk about it. We haven’t done anything since then.”

“Wait, so you’re not together now?” Ned was once again confused.

Peter shook his head. “No. We’re not,” he responded, a hint of disappointment mixed into his voice.

“But why? I don’t get it. You guys had sex. Aren’t you guys supposed to be like… in love or something?”

Not really wanting to go further into this, and also not really knowing what to say, Peter just shrugged weakly. It was already a heavy topic; adding feelings into the mix wasn’t helping any of this at all.

Ned took Peter’s silence as a cue to move on. “Okay, so… What else is there?”

Peter took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

Well, here it goes. 

He was just going to have to tell him. And then explain to Michelle that he told someone else. Their best friend. Then he’d have to deal with said best friend. If Ned was this freaked out by finding out about the sex, he couldn’t imagine what he’d think of the next part. This was big news. Huge. It was a lot, almost unfair, to ask someone  _ not _ to overreact, especially given the circumstances.

Again, Peter hesitated. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, no words coming out. This was a lot harder than he thought it would be. So much harder than the first part. “Well, now…” Maybe he could make something up, anything that wasn’t the truth. But he couldn’t lie. “She’s pregnant.”

This time, Ned did fall out of the chair, letting out a surprised yelp as he collided with the ground. There weren’t enough words in any language to accurately describe just how stunned he was. Except maybe, “DUDE!” And what came after was just a series of confused and incoherent noises and strings of hushed curse words. “Shit! Shit! Fuck!”

That much had been expected.

“Are you gonna marry her?!”

That, however was not. Peter jumped back in shock. “What?!”

“That’s what happens on reality shows and in movies. The guy always marries the girl after he gets her pregnant, or something like that.”

Peter gaped, slightly dumbfounded. “We’re not getting married, Ned,” He clarified. “Plus, I don’t even think MJ would want that,” He added quietly. 

“What are we gonna—I mean, what are you guys gonna do?” The amount of concern in Ned’s voice made it seem like he was just as much a part of this as Peter and Michelle were. “Wait can I be the godfather?"

“No, Ned, we’re not keeping it,” Peter replied, half-amused half-annoyed. “We’re just gonna try to find a nice family and give it to them.”

“Oh, yeah makes sense.” Ned nodded in understanding. “No offense, but you’d guys would be horrible parents.”

Peter allowed himself a small laugh at that. “You’re right. We’d be the worst.”

They were both silent for a moment. Peter felt a little guilty for not telling Ned sooner, and for keeping him in the dark so long, even if it had only been about a week. Though the secret was now out and in the open, the gravity of everything that’d just been revealed fell like a heavy blanket on them. 

Telling Ned made this whole thing even more real than it was before. 

Ned’s eyes lit up briefly, as if he’d found the brighter side. “You should still grow a beard or something though. Since you’re a real man now.” 

Peter let out an amused huff. “I don’t think getting a girl pregnant counts as becoming a man.”

Ned shrugged.

“Plus, I can’t grow facial hair. You know this. It just comes out looking patchy and gross.” 

“Just a suggestion,” Ned raised his hands in defense. 

The corners of Peter’s mouth twitched upward into a small smile. He was glad that Ned was still able to make him laugh, even in the face of something as shitty as this.

They both briefly went back to their respective homework assignments, neither one being able to fully concentrate. Ned looked like he still had so many questions and comments, bubbling just at the surface, threatening to just boil over, but he stopped himself. For that, Peter was thankful. 

“Hey,” Peter said, once again putting his pencil down. He still hadn’t written anything on the piece of notebook paper. “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. You understand, right?”

Ned quickly nodded. “Yeah, totally. Sorry I freaked out at you.”

“It’s okay, I get it,” Peter smiled. “We cool?”

“Yeah, dude.” 

Their handshake was a little awkward from Peter’s place on the floor, but they pushed through. The rest of the evening was spent working on stuff for school, they even threw some studying for decathlon in there. 

After finishing all of their school work, both boys had gone into the kitchen to grab some snacks before retreating back into their cave. Peter was now at his desk, refilling web cartridges as Ned sat on the bottom bunk, scrolling through Twitter on his phone. 

“So,” Ned started, bringing a handful of doritos to his mouth. “I’ve been thinking… about this whole MJ being pregnant thing.”

Peter looked up, a half-smile ghosting over his face, reaching over to some chips. “Yeah?”

“If you guys keep it—”

“We’re not keeping it, Ned.”

_ “If _ , I said, _ ‘if,’ _ geez,” Ned ate another chip. “Anyway, as I was saying… I was thinking, and I actually don’t think you guys would be the worst parents. Like, you’re an avenger. Can you imagine having that as your dad? That’d be so cool.”

Peter hmphed at the idea. “No, I can’t imagine that.” 

“But, it’s not just that. I mean, you’re both really good people, you know? Michelle, she’s kinda quiet and sarcastic, but she is a great friend. She doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She has this like, hard exterior, but when it comes down to it, she’s got your back. And you. You care about literally everyone you meet. You’re like, mad supportive one-hundred percent of the time, even when I’m being dumb. I don’t know, you guys just make a great team, you complement each other. Not even just as parents, but like, in general, you know? Whatever… It’s dumb… I shouldn’t have said anything. Moving on.”

This really wasn’t helping his little crush at all. Peter shook his head, swallowing thickly. “No, it’s not...”

“Wait,” Ned’s eyes widened. “What if the baby’s like you?”

Peter looked up at him, clearly offended. _ “Dude.” _

“No, I mean,” Ned sat forward, putting his phone down. “What if it’s all… spider-y?”

Peter froze.

Oh.

That was not something he had considered. At all. 

“I… Don’t know,” And he genuinely… did not know. He was clueless. Bright as he was, his teenage boy brain was so focused on the fact that he’d actually managed to have sex and create another human being that the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.  

Were his powers even genetic? And if they were, which ones would he pass down? Were they like any normal old genes, like eyes, hair, ear lobes? Were his powers dominant or recessive? She didn’t have powers, so would that make it harder for his to be passed on? Would they develop later in life?

“It’s probably fine,” Peter decided, though not entirely convinced himself, a small pit of worry forming at the bottom of his stomach.

“What if the baby comes out and it has eight legs? Or eight eyes??” Ned’s own eyes widened as he went on, imagining the creature that might come out of his pregnant friend. He gasped, covering his mouth with both hands. “Oh what if she doesn’t even have an actual baby?? What if she lays eggs and it’s thousands of tiny babies??”

Peter laughed, more so out of shock than anything else. “Ned, that’s not gonna happen,” he denied, shaking his head. 

“You don’t know that!” Ned exclaimed, standing up. “This is probably the first time something like this has ever happened! What if the tiny baby army eats her? What if she dies after she has them??”

“I’m not full spider, Ned!” Peter scoffed. “It might not even get anything from me. And if it does, get any of… whatever I have, it won’t be thousands of tiny babies that’ll eat her alive.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” his friend conceded. “But what if it has your powers? Like the wall-crawling? Can you even imagine a baby on the ceiling?? Babies like to climb things, Peter!!”

He really had not thought about this, if that wasn’t evident enough. The thought of how reproduction and genetics worked hadn’t ever crossed his mind, just the act behind it. He pursed his lips, furrowing his brows in intense thought. 

“Can you give a super-baby to just anyone? Is that even legal?” Ned asked, continuing to spew his stream of consciousness when Peter didn’t answer. 

“Uh… I’m not sure.”

“What if you give the baby away, and like later down the line it grows up and discovers it’s true powers and decides to use them for evil and it becomes your nemesis? What if you have to fight your baby?!”

“Ned, that’s not going to happen!”

“You never know!”

Peter groaned, throwing his head in his hands. “Oh, god.”

Ned was quiet for a moment. “You could ask Mr. Stark. Maybe he could help. Maybe he knows someone who needs a kid with powers. You guys are pretty tight, right?” 

Peter shook his head. “Yeah, I guess. But I can’t tell Mr. Stark anything without asking MJ first. She hates him. I’d feel too bad. Especially when there might not even be anything wrong.” He sank back in his chair. “And… MJ doesn’t even know… about my powers. I’d have to tell her.”

For a heavy moment, it was silent, the only sound coming from the faint blow of air conditioning. “Dude, I think you  _ need _ to tell MJ,” Ned nearly whispered. “About Spider-Man.”

This was something Peter had been avoiding for a long time. He didn’t like keeping this from her, but he also didn’t want to put her in any danger whatsoever. Four people, not including all of the Avengers, knew his identity, and that was already four too many. He wasn’t stupid though; he knew that eventually, she would have to find out. 

He just didn’t see himself doing it like  _ this. _

Peter sighed, a stressed hand carding through his hair. He had no other choice. If Michelle was going to do this, it wasn’t fair to keep something so game changing from her. Something that could potentially bring her harm. 

“I know,” his voice was so small, cracking slightly at the end. “Hey Ned?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell MJ I told you,” Peter almost begged. He didn’t need to give Michelle anymore reasons to be mad at him. “Let her tell you, or something. Just act normal around her. Don’t freak out.”

Ned scoffed. “I’ll be fine, Peter. I can be normal.”

* * *

Ned would not be fine.

Or normal. 

In fact, he was far from it. 

From what Peter could tell at school the next day, normal didn’t even seem to be a word in Ned’s vocabulary after finding out that his two best friends had had sex with each other and were now having a baby.

Anytime they saw her, Ned would immediately freeze, no matter where they were. He would stop talking, his eyes widening, a deer-in-headlights expression plastered on his face; only faltering when Peter would harshly elbow him in the side. 

He had also made a bad habit of staring at her stomach when he thought she wasn’t looking. 

Thankfully, for both their sake, they only really saw her in passing, neither of them had any classes with her all morning. No, the real test would be lunchtime. There was no avoiding her there. And Peter absolutely dreaded it. 

“I’m sorry,” Ned spoke in between mouthfuls of cafeteria spaghetti. “It’s just… it’s really hard to concentrate when I know _ everything _ , okay?” He had been defensive all morning. It was a lot to handle. “Peter, there is a tiny human growing inside of her right now.”

Peter’s face was buried in his hands, the food on his tray untouched. “I know, I know,” he responded resting his head in his hands as he looked up at his friend. He glanced around before lowering his voice. “I just don’t want MJ to be mad. She basically gave me the go ahead to tell people, but I still feel like I should’ve asked her first. Like what if it was a test or something.”

Ned nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry. I’ll try harder.”

“Thank you,” Peter mumbled, finally grabbing his fork, twirling it absently in the pasta. He was confident for a moment; that everything was going to be fine. That Ned was going to be calm, cool, and collected. That MJ wouldn’t suspect a thing.

That confidence died, tragically hit by a train, as he saw the cafeteria doors opening, the their other friend behind them. 

He passed Ned a pleading glance, silently begging him to just act natural as MJ made her way over to their table. She unceremoniously dropped her lunchbox down, before plopping herself onto the bench. 

Peter caught  _ himself  _ staring, and immediately drew back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ned had not done the same, still wide-eyed and ever so slightly slack-jawed. Peter roughly kicked him under the table, earning a cough from his friend. 

Unfortunately, Michelle was observant. And noticed the whole exchange. 

She had paused, her hand hovering above the zipper of her lunchbox, quirking a confused and annoyed brow at them. “What?”

When Ned didn’t respond, Peter kicked him again. 

And again, this did not go unnoticed.

Ned coughed, a very fake cough. “Uh, nothing.”

“Nothing!” Peter repeated, his voice elevated. 

She eyed them carefully as she opened her bag, pulling a sandwich and fruit out. She had a good feeling about why the dorks were acting especially dorky today, but she wasn’t really in the mood to deal with it. She reached a hand inside her bag for her water, only to be met with empty space. “Ugh,” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “I’ll be right back. I forgot to pack a drink.” 

Before she could even stand, Ned shot up from his seat. “I got it, MJ! Don’t get up!” He fumbled around in his pockets for some money. “What do you want? Chocolate milk?” 

Peter shot him a warning glare.

MJ was just plain confused. “Ned, it’s fine. I can just—”

“I’ll get you some chocolate milk. Don’t worry about paying me back. I’m just helping you out. Any way I can. Just relax. Be right back!”

Before she could protest any more, Ned was gone. 

As soon as he was gone, Michelle turned to Peter, her eyes narrowing. “You told him, didn’t you?”

For the life of him, he couldn’t lie to her, not with her scrutinizing glare burning right into his soul. “Yeah…” He looked down at his lap, hanging his head in shame. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I should have asked you. I’m so sorry. You have every right to be mad at me.” 

In all honesty, he expected her to be angry at him; to yell at him about how, yeah, he should have asked, how dare he tell someone without her. Maybe she’d stop being his friend, shunning him forever, never speaking to him again. Instead, to his surprise, she just stared at him quizzically. “Okay, don’t be so dramatic,” she snorted, as if reading all of his manic thoughts. “I’m not mad.”

Peter snapped his gaze to hers, surprised. “You’re not?” 

“No,” she replied, as if it were obvious, glancing around. “In case you forgot, Ned’s also my best friend. Yeah, I would have liked to tell him myself, but… It’s okay. He would have found out anyway. Plus,” she gestured to her stomach. “Can’t hide this bad boy forever.

Peter almost choked on his milk. “It’s a boy??”

“That’s just an expression, Peter,” Michelle deadpanned. 

“Oh,” He laughed anxiously. “Right.”

“Just don’t tell anyone else, or you  _ will _ be put on my donezo list. No more friendship. You will be cut off.”

“Yeah, of course! Of course,” he nodded vigorously, understanding the consequences.

She snorted again. “Dude, I’m kidding.”

“Oh… Yeah, right. I knew that.”

Her grin fell, her face blank. “Or am I?” She asked, quirking a brow, eyes narrowing. 

Once again, Peter looked confused, and frankly, a little scared. “Are you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Duh, loser.” 

His whole body seemed to sigh with relief, but he still tried to keep his composure as he gave a nervous, self-conscious laugh.

Michelle tried to go back to her sandwich after giving him a tight-lipped smile, but couldn’t shake the feeling of those two puppy-dog eyes practically burning holes into her. She glanced up to see Peter staring. “Need something?” 

Peter sputtered. “Oh, no. No. Sorry.” He tried to occupy himself with his tray, using his fork to push around some veggies.

As Michelle opened her mouth to speak, a carton of chocolate milk was placed in front of her. “There you go, MJ!” Ned beamed, moving to his seat across from her. 

Annoyed as she was, she still managed a thankful smile and a nod. 

God, she loved these nerds. And scoring free chocolate milk just for being pregnant was a pretty sweet deal.

But damn it, if they kept this up, she might actually explode.

Ned threw a not-so-inconspicuous wink at Peter, angling his body so that Michelle couldn’t see the thumbs up he was giving. 

Peter barely looked up from his food. “Ned, she knows you know.”

“Oh, thank God.”

The rest of lunch was filled with questions on Ned’s part. It wasn’t so bad. Just the basic, run-of-the-mill stuff. “What does it feel like? How big is it right now? I bet it feels like an alien. Is it kicking?” Things like that. He didn’t have to hold back anymore, so he was taking every opportunity to ask whatever questions were on his mind. 

His incessant curiosity was endearing to a point, and it was understandable. This was a weird situation. But she nearly lost it when Ned refused to let her carry her book bag out of the cafeteria, saying that she didn’t need to lift a finger.

“Ned, I’m pregnant, not terminally ill,” she had snapped through gritted teeth. “I can carry my own bag.”

Immediately, Ned cowered away from her, almost hiding behind Peter. “Sorry! Sorry!” 

The thing was, she knew that this was only going to get worse the farther along she got. They were only going to get more  _ considerate _ and  _ helpful. _

It was gross.

Eventually, after a few more classes, the final bell rang. School had ended and Michelle and Peter were walking toward her locker together, talking about their last class. It’s a little weird though that Peter lingers after they get there, instead of going to his own, but she shrugs it off. But she’s in the middle of loading more books into her bag when Peter gets this look on his face. 

“So, how are you… uh, feeling?” He asks shyly, a cautious edge to his tone. 

She shrugs. “I’m a little sleepy. But, otherwise, pretty good,” she pauses, lifting her backpack up to rest on her knee as she shuffles around some notebooks. “Why?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay,” he explains, trying to be nonchalant, but failing. 

She’s touched. Really, she is. But she’s not in the mood to deal with how caring and sweet this boy is. Again, it’s exhausting sometimes. “Look, Peter. Chill. I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry about me,” She snaps; her words come out a little more harshly than she had intended, seeing how he deflates after she says them. 

Great,  _ now _ she feels bad. 

Maybe she can lighten the mood with some good old fashioned awkward humor. “Honestly, the worst thing that’s going to come out of this is me losing this hot bod.” 

It seems to work a little; he laughs lightly, shaking his head. 

“Seriously, I’m going to look like a huge dork pretty soon,” she adds, riffing on her own joke, zipping her backpack up. “I won’t even be able to see my feet. I will become a moon. I mean, am I still gonna be this cute when I’m huge? That’s the real problem.”

Peter laughs again, though it’s more timid. “You’ll always be cute,” he mumbles. 

It’s not often that Michelle is at a loss for words… but she’s at a loss for words. It feels as if the wind has been knocked out of her. Heat rushes to her face and flood her entire body, and she knows that if he looks really hard, he might be able to see the tiniest hint of color on her cheeks. 

All this because a boy called her cute. 

She might puke.

“Geez, Pete,” she huffs in amusement, swinging her bag over her shoulder, not really able to look him in the eye. She had just been messing around, not really fishing for a compliment.

“Well, it’s true…” One of his hands reaches up to scratch behind his neck. 

She briefly searches his expression for any evidence of a joke, and she comes up empty. It’s so earnest and kind and ugh—

She has to change the subject. 

“I’m telling my parents today,” she blurts.

His smile fades in an instant, his expression melting into one mixed with fear and concern. “Oh,” he breathes out. “Shit. That’s gotta be scary. Do you want me to come—” 

“No,” she cuts him off. “No. I don’t think it’s the best idea to have you there,” she almost laughs. “My dad might freak out, and I don’t want you to die… so…” she presses her lips together in a thin line, rocking back and forth on her heels. 

“Oh, yeah totally,” He nods quickly. “If you need anything, or if you wanna hang out after, just let me know.”

“Thanks, loser,” she shuts her locker. “I’ll see ya later,” she gives him a small salute, unable to fight the smile that’s tugging at the corner of her mouth as she walks away. 

* * *

Later came sooner than she thought.

Unsurprisingly, Peter didn’t listen to her at all when she had said that no, he didn’t need to come with her to tell her parents; he had done the opposite in fact. Once again, he, or rather, his alter-ego Spider-Man, was following her, maintaining a semi-reasonable distance behind as he swung from building to building.

If she wasn’t annoyed before, she certainly was now. If it had been any other day, she would have stopped and said something, given him some shit about it, but she was on a mission: go home, tell parents, stay alive. There was no time for distractions like Peter Parker in red and blue spandex. 

To her relief, her parents were still at work when she got home. This would give her time to make a game plan. She needed to figure out exactly what to say at exactly the right time. Locking herself in her room and pulling up a google doc, she brainstormed every possible way she could tell them. She even googled how to do it. But, even after all of the help the precious internet provided, she had only come to one conclusion.

There was no good way to tell them. 

No way she could phrase or put this that would make it any better.

Soon, it was five o’clock, and her parents were home. 

They were laughing about something as they walked in, Annie trailing close behind. Asking them to sit and talk had been, by far, the most nerve-wracking part of this whole pregnancy thing. Telling Peter hadn’t prepared her for this. Telling May hadn’t even come close. 

When they saw just how serious she looked, their expressions fell; they sent Annie up to her room, telling her to go work on some reading.

Now here Michelle was, pacing back and forth in front of them, her fingers anxiously fiddling with each other as her feet walked the same line over and over. Bill and Linda were watching her, sitting on their living room couch; her father’s face wore a worried expression as his eyes followed her movements, her step-mom eyeing her warily, hands folded in her lap. 

“I have no idea how I’m going to spit this out,” Michelle almost laughs to herself, still pacing, not even bothering to glance at her worried parents. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Linda finally spoke up, raising her eyebrows, “Hon, what is it? Did you get expelled or something? Are you in trouble at school?”

Michelle fought the urge to roll her eyes into another dimension.

God, this was hard. 

“No, I’m pretty sure Midtown would contact you in the event of my expulsion,” Michelle retorted with an exasperated huff. She stopped pacing, though she still couldn’t look either of them in the eye. 

Her step-mom sat back against the couch, hands tightening a little. “Well, it was just a thought. It seems plausible.”

Michelle chose to ignore that remark.

“Do you need money for anything?” Bill questioned, the worried curiosity he felt was very evident. “Did you get a ticket? Were you speeding in the Mazda?”

“No, no, no, no,” Michelle shook her head vigorously. “I’m not asking for money, or anything like that,” she reassured, though her parents were no less uneasy. “Except maybe a little mercy? Like, it would be really cool if you didn’t disown me or anything. And I know you’re going to be really disappointed in me, I mean, I’m disappointed in me too. But… ugh, god...” 

“What did you do, Em?” Her father asked, growing impatient. 

It was then that she finally forced herself to look them in the eyes. The way both of her parents were looking at her right now, a horrible concoction of scrutiny and worry, was enough to make her want to run into Forest Park, burrow into the ground, and never come out again. 

Now, she decided, at this point, it was best to just flat out tell them, though her voice was small and weak, lacking conviction. She had to rip off the band-aid and let it bleed. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, follow my tumblr "spiderman-homecomeme" bc sometimes I post updates about writing this story! Thanks again for reading! :)


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm so so so sorry for this update taking so long. Life just kinda hit really hard over the past couple of weeks. Nothing too bad, just a lot of change!! But I have finished all of my online classes for the summer, so I should be able to write more often until the fall semester starts. Updates then might start getting a little more spread out, but I will try my hardest to keep them consistent!
> 
> I love working on this story and I love that you guys are enjoying it. Thank you to everyone commenting, leaving kudos, and just reading in general. It really means a lot!!
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Sorry again it was so late.

No amount of googling, no amount of articles and stories, nothing at all could help prepare Michelle for the moment she told her parents; the moment the words, “I’m pregnant,” fell onto the air.

At first, they didn’t say anything, both of her parents staring at her as if they hadn’t quite heard what she said, that they didn’t believe her. It was like they were waiting for the punchline, the hint that she was only joking, she wasn’t actually pregnant.

No, their daughter was smarter than that. She wasn’t the type of girl to get pregnant. She was the kind of girl that knew when to say when.

But to be honest, even Michelle didn’t even entirely know what kind of girl she was.

Taking a chance, she looked up at her parents, trying to read them, but coming up empty. They still sat, just staring at her. Her heartbeat thrummed in her throat, her face heating at the uncomfortably long silence.

After what seemed like eighty years, Linda was the first to break the silence, but it wasn’t anything of real substance. “What?” She asked breathlessly, her voice barely audible.

Bill just sat there, looking at the ground, his chin resting between his index finger and thumb, brows pinched together, jaw clenched.

Attempting to clear her throat, but the sound getting caught, Michelle tried to speak again, though she really didn’t want to repeat herself. “I took some tests and… I’m pregnant.”

Linda covered her mouth, her head shaking slightly. “Oh my god.”

Michelle nodded to herself, looking down at her shoes. That seemed to be the general reaction.

Still, besides Linda’s brief interjection, they didn’t speak.

Michelle shifted on her heels, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. She couldn’t take it anymore. “I know you guys are probably really upset with me right now,” She quickly added, forcing herself to make eye contact. “I know you’re surprised. But everything is going to be fine. I’ve got this all figured out. And if it’s any consolation, I think I just peed a little and I have heartburn that is radiating from my head to my toes.”

Humor was not helping her case any. Not this time.

Her comment was ignored. The silence was honestly worse than if they had started yelling at her; at least then she would have been able to clearly tell what their thought process was. Now, she couldn’t tell what they were thinking, what emotions they were feeling—besides shock. She just wanted them to say something, anything to give her even the slightest hint.

It was excruciating.

Linda shook her head, letting out a shaky breath, laced with disappointment. “We didn’t even know you were having sex! When did this happen? How long has this been going on?"

“Uh… July,” Michelle answered slowly, unsure if that answer would put out or add gasoline to the fire. “But it was just the one time, I promise.”

Bill looked up at her finally, his face wrought with confusion. “You’re _pregnant?”_ He asked incredulously; it was as if he was giving her another chance to take it back, to say she’s lying, to end this whole thing.

Oh, how she wished it was a joke.

The room seemed to be getting hotter and hotter by the minute, a thin layer of sweat forming above Michelle’s brow. She nodded, gulping. “I’m really sorry.”

“Who’s the father?”

Michelle hesitated. She wasn’t quite sure how her parents would take that particular bit of information. Sure, they liked Peter; they thought he was a good kid and a great friend for her, but she wasn’t sure if it was enough to forgive him for knocking their daughter up.

It was worth a shot.

Maybe.

“Peter Parker,” She answered carefully, trying to gauge their reactions.  

The way her parents’ eyes widened in disbelief showed just how much of that they saw coming. She could see her father tighten his grip on the arm rest, bringing the other hand to his chin before breathing harshly through his nose. He shook his head. “Damn kid’s a menace. I knew it.”

Linda, while she was also shocked, was a little more realistic. “Oh, come on, Bill. No you didn’t. He’s a sweet kid.”

“I swear to God—”

“Dad, it wasn’t his idea,” Michelle interjected before he could say anything else. “It’s not his fault.”

“I’m gonna punch that kid in the wiener next time I see him—”

“Bill!” Linda cut him off.

Her father said nothing for another moment, trying to calm himself, collecting his thoughts; she could almost see the wheels in his head turning a mile a minute. “It’s alright,” he finally said, surprising Michelle, though he still didn’t look directly at her. It was more that he was telling this to himself. “It’s okay. We’ll make an appointment at the clinic, get this sorted out. I’ll even drive you there. No one will have to know, and we can put all of this behind us.”

Michelle bit the inside of her cheek, pursing her lips, not keen on the idea of going back. She debated telling them about her first time there, but decided against it. They didn’t need to know. “No, uh… I don’t want to do that.”

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t want to’?” Bill looked at her, his glare sharp and dissatisfied, his teeth grit together. At any moment, he could explode. “Do you have any idea what it takes to be a parent, Michelle? It changes you. It changes your life. You’re too young to go through something like this. You don’t understand.”

Michelle swallowed, but stood her ground. “I do understand, and that’s why I have a plan.”

Bill rolled his eyes before looking at her expectantly, waiting to hear whatever she had come up with.

“I’m staying pregnant,” She explained, speaking again before either of her parents could protest. “But, I’m not keeping it; I’m going to put it up for adoption. I haven’t found a couple yet, but I’m sure I can just google it or something. And then after I have it, we can just act like none of this ever happened, just like you wanted.”

That last part came out with a little more venom than Michelle had intended, but she meant it. In the end, after giving the baby to a new home, everything could, in theory, go back to normal.

Once again, her parents remained silent, both of them taking the time to think all of this over.

Bill, though clearly not completely satisfied with the plan, decided not to argue.

Linda gave her a pitied look. “Hon, you realize what you’re talking about isn’t all that simple, right? Giving up a child isn’t easy. It’s a lot harder than you think; one of the hardest things anyone could ever do. And besides that, the changes your body goes through. Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah,” Michelle sighed. “I know it’ll be hard. But… I’m not really ready to be a Mom. I don’t even know if I want to be one.”

Her dad huffed indignantly. “Damn skippy you’re not ready.”

Again, Michelle was subject to Linda’s look of pity. “Em, I know you said you didn’t want to go to the clinic, but have you considered, and I mean really considered... the alternative?”

Even Linda, an adult woman, had trouble saying the word _abortion._

“No,” Michelle lied through her teeth.

They just stared at her; Bill seething, Linda worrying.

Then, something surprised her.

Linda smiled. Albeit, it’s a little forced and strained, but it’s a smile nonetheless, and that, in its own weird way, is a little comforting.

“Okay, then,” the older woman started, slapping her hands on her legs to begin the end of the conversation. She reached across to the coffee table, grabbing a small notebook and a pen. “If you’re gonna do this, we gotta get you healthy. First, we’ll need to put you on some prenatal vitamins. And we’ll have to do a total overhaul of your diet. And we’ll get you in with a doctor and an ultrasound. Oh, and we’ll have to figure out where you want to deliver.”

“I think it’s less of a delivery and more of an eviction, but okay,” Michelle muttered.

“Hey, Michelle,” Her father’s voice grabbed her attention. His expression had softened slightly, the hard lines now more relaxed, his tone now more defeated. “Let me know when you find a couple to take this kid. I wanna come with when you go and meet them. I don’t want you getting ripped off by some baby-starved wingnuts.”

Michelle gave a small nod, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, of course, Dad.”

Bill nodded back, satisfied. He sighed again, the gentleness in his face growing dismal as he reflected upon the situation. “You know, I really thought you were smarter than this.”

That stung. There were very rare instances where her father had been truly upset with her, but none of them came even close to this moment. The pure disappointment in his voice caused a prickling feeling in the back of her eyes, a lump forming in her throat. If it weren’t for her heightened hormone induced emotions, she would maybe have been able to brush a comment like this off, maybe even come up with a good comeback. She looked down at her shoes, biting the inside of her cheek.

She chose not to respond, afraid she’d only make it worse.

Bill sighed again, shaking his head, breaking eye contact.

Now all she wanted to do was get out of there.

As if sensing Michelle’s spike in emotions, Linda spoke up again, giving her a chance to escape. “Em, could you run to the store for me?”

* * *

Michelle stared at the grocery list in her hand, the writing scribbled messily, written in a rush. They really didn’t need a lot of these; she was pretty sure they were fine on milk and eggs. Linda only did this to get her out of the house, which, to tell the truth, Michelle appreciated greatly. She wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to last if she had to stay.

She had hoped that walking by herself to the store would give her a chance to clear her mind, but being alone only made her intrusive thoughts louder. What her parents, mainly her dad, had said, how they’d reacted played over and over again in her mind as she gathered every item on the list. All she kept seeing was the sheer disappointment that was present in her dad’s eyes, now etched in her memory.

A small part of her had thought she knew what they would do and say, but their reaction was nothing like she’d imagined. She’d thought they would yell and scream at her, maybe even kick her out, her young mind running wild with imagination at what could have happened.

She said nothing as the clerk bagged her groceries, not even answering his cheery, “good evening!” Wordlessly, she gave him the twenty her step-mom had given her, only mumbling a quiet, “thanks,” when he handed her change back.

Not entirely wanting to get home just yet and face her father, she decided to take the longer route home.

The more she thought about what her parents had said, the more she began to second-guess herself. She wasn’t dumb, she knew adoption was hard. Giving up a baby to another family was much easier said than done for some mothers, and she was aware of that. But still... she didn’t see how it would be all that difficult for her.

It was obvious that she didn’t want this child, and she didn’t want it growing up in a home where it was unwanted.

A broken family was the last thing this kid needed.

What really bothered her was what her father had said. That he thought she was “smarter” than this. At first, she had been hurt. It stung to hear that coming from her beloved dad, who was normally so proud of everything she did. But now… now she was still very much hurt, but also angry. This had nothing to do with her intelligence. This wasn’t her fault. They’d taken all the right steps. This was just an accident, a sick way for the universe to fuck with her even more. It wasn’t fair of him to blame this all on teenage ignorance.

The lights of the city passed by her as she walked home, one foot in front of the other, all of the groceries stuffed into three bags, her other hand shoved into the pocket of her jacket. She wasn’t even paying attention to where she was going at this point, too lost in her own thoughts to even care. She’d get home eventually.

She had a lot to think about, and a long walk home was the best way for her to go through all of those thoughts, uninterrupted.

Her foot had barely touched the crosswalk when she was suddenly yanked back, away from the street and the oncoming traffic. She let out an uncharacteristic, and a little embarrassing yelp as she fell back, groceries flying through the air, before spilling all over the sidewalk, milk and eggs covering the pavement. She, herself, was caught just before she hit the ground, a pair of weirdly strong arms in red and blue spandex holding her up.

Of fucking course.

Reality now catching up with her, she scrambled out of his grasp. “What the hell?!”

Spider-Man now seemed a little less like a confident hero as he sputtered at her response. “You were about to step into traffic… the sign wasn’t on ‘walk,’ yet… You didn’t look both ways—”

“I would’ve been fine,” she rolled her eyes. Really, it was good that he had grabbed her in time, but she wasn’t in any type of mood to let him have that. Plus, all the food she’d just bought was ruined; her eggs were all broken, the bread was crushed, and there was milk everywhere.

“Well—”

Michelle snapped her fingers, holding a hand up to stop him from talking. “If the next words out of your mouth aren’t, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll pay for those groceries, and even get you some new ones,’ I swear to God, I’m going to shove these broken eggs so far—”

He didn’t waste any time in even letting her finish that sentence as he scrambled away.

Soon enough, he came back, landing gracefully next to her, just where he’d left her. “Here you go, Mi—uh, Milady,” He handed her the bags, and just as he’d done last time, he tipped his imaginary hat, scratching his neck nervously. “Sorry about that, again.”

She just stared at him.

“But uh, you know what they say, right? No use crying over spilled milk!”

Her eyes narrowed.

Another nervous laugh bubbled up out of him.

Michelle examined the contents of the bags, making sure everything on Linda’s list was accounted for. “So, how long have you been following me?” She asked, not looking up at him.

Peter— _Spider-Man_ scoffed, glancing around. “I’m not following you,” He clarified with a nonchalant shrug, though he was still very unconvincing. At her silence, his bravado faltered, his voice raising in pitch and breathiness. “How—How do I know that _you_ aren’t following _me?_ Hmm? Yeah. Check and mate,” he rambled, giving a final, satisfied nod.

“Uh-huh…” Michelle had to look away, biting back a remark. “Well, thanks for getting these for me, even though this was kind of your fault in the first place.” As annoyed as she was, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at least little glad that this happened; it gave her a good distraction from the conversation she’d had with her parents.

But she had to go home eventually.

She turned to leave, throwing him a stiff wave.

_“No, Karen! That’s not happening!”_ He hissed behind her, cringing as she swiftly turned on her heel.

“What?” Michelle asked, her brows pinched in confusion.

Spider-Man sputtered. “No! Not you!” He threw his hands up in defense. “I was just talking to the lady in my suit.”

Michelle quirked a brow at him, only a little weirded-out.

“It’s not as weird as it sounds! She’s this like… AI voice that helps me and tells me what to do sometimes. Like Siri or Alexa or… something. _I’m sorry, Karen, you’re way better than Siri or Alexa. Even Google.”_

“Ah,” she nodded, kind of understanding. “And what did Karen say?”

If she could see under the mask, she would have seen Peter’s face turn about sixty different shades of red and pink. “Oh, uhm—just that I should offer to take you home,” he scratched the back of his neck again, before adding quickly. “But I only said ‘no,’ because you are an independent woman and I respect that, of course, and I didn’t want you to think I assumed that you couldn’t handle yourself or anything...”

Michelle shrugged.

“I mean, unless you _do_ want me to take you home? It’s not as scary as it looks—swinging around, I mean.”

A huff of amusement escaped her. Even if she said no, she knew he’d still follow her, creepy as it was, so there really was no point arguing with him. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea, considering I’m—” she looked down at her stomach, gesturing.

The whites of his eyes widened, the black outline nearly disappearing. It was kind of weird to look at, if she were being honest. “Oh, yeah. Of course.”

At this, she decided it was another good time to mess with Peter. She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “You didn’t even know what I was going to say. How do you know what I’m talking about?”

For the umpteenth time that night, he struggled for words.

Wow, he was really bad at this whole secret identity thing.

But even as he fought to come up with something, anything to say, Michelle decided to take pity on him. “I’d say you can just walk with me, but that seems a little counterproductive for you.”

His shoulders sagged in relief as he let out a swift exhale, but he quickly recovered. “Nah, it’s okay! I don’t mind walking,” He waved her off, shaking his head. “Plus, it keeps me grounded.”

Michelle was thoroughly unimpressed, her only response being the slow blink of her eyes as she exhaled sharply through her nose.

He was entirely too proud of that pun. She rolled her eyes, turning on her heels and walking, Spider-Man scrambling to fall in-step just behind her. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, fighting the smile that threatened to form.

And just like that, the silence came back, the only sound coming from the city around them and the tapping of their feet on the sidewalk.

Michelle found the silence comfortable, but she could tell that her companion felt differently. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him; he’d glance around, every once in a while taking in a quick breath, as if he were about to say something, but ultimately deciding against it. She imagined that he didn’t do things like this often; walk as a pedestrian. He was probably a little antsy.

“So, Spidey,” She started, though not looking over at him, her eyes trained on the streets ahead of her. She hadn’t really planned on what she was going to say, so she had to think quick. “Superhero stuff. That’s gotta be pretty cool, huh?”

She mentally kicked herself. Why was this so goddamn hard? It was just Peter, for crying out loud.

That seemed to work though. “Oh, yeah, it’s great. Lots of fun. Really rewarding,” he answered, chuckling nervously.

“Anything exciting going on?”

Spider-Man paused, bringing a hand to his chin, tapping his fingers a few times in thought. “Oh, I stopped a couple of shoplifters today. Turns out they were trying to wear the shoes out of the store _without_ paying for them. Pretty crazy.”

Michelle shook her head, huffing in amusement. “What would Queens do without you?”

“Have a lot more shoplifters, that’s what.”

The blinking orange glow of the hand at the crosswalk stopped them in their tracks. Michelle looked around, realizing the humor of the whole situation; Spider-Man just… walking around with some pregnant girl.

“So you’re an avenger, right?”

He shrugged, leaning against the light post as they waited. “Kind of? But not really. Mr. Stark asked me to but I turned it down; I kinda wanted to stay helping the little guy for a little longer, ya know?”

Michelle nodded wordlessly.

“Why?” He asked, stepping away from the post as the “walk” signal flashed.

“Oh, I just figured that the whole thing with Captain America: Wanted Criminal must have made things pretty awk at the base,” Michelle shrugged as they moved across the street. “I was curious.”

Peter— _Spider-Man,_ damn it, laughed faintly. “Yeah, I mean it’s basically just Vision and Mr. Stark. And Colonel Rhodes, but he’s… he’s out of commission right now, I guess.”

“So they only asked you because they didn’t have anyone else?” Michelle had to suppress a laugh at the way he bristled at that question. She was sure his face was all pouty and scrunched up like it always got when she teased him.

“No!” He denied, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Mr. Stark said I would be a real asset to the team.”

“For sure. If they need anyone to help take down all those shoe thieves, they’ll know who to call.”

Once again, she had to bite back the laugh that was just bubbling at the surface as he groaned and rolled his head back.

She knew perfectly well that he was a worthy avenger, but she obviously wasn’t going to tell him that. That just wasn’t her thing. It wasn’t _their_ thing. Even if he wasn’t technically Peter right now.

But still. After seeing his slumped shoulders and slightly dejected spirit, she decided that maybe going easier on him wasn’t a bad idea.

“I saw you fight that one guy with the fishbowl on his head on the news, though,” she added, almost timidly, putting away the sarcastic tone for now. “That was pretty cool.”

“Really?!” He asked with almost a bit too much enthusiasm, before clearing his throat and trying to sound more casual. He stood up straighter. “I mean… Really?”

“Yup.”

He turned his head away from her bashfully, scratching the back of his neck again. “Thanks.”

“No prob.”

They walk in silence for a little longer, neither really knowing where to take the conversation from there.

Michelle adjusted the grip on her groceries, her arm growing tired. “Did you ever meet him?”

“Huh?”

“Captain America.”

“Oh,” He breathed. “Yeah. I fought him actually. He dropped a boarding tunnel on me.”

Michelle’s eyebrows raised in surprise, though she tried to hide it. What kind of person, super-soldier or not, drops something that big on a kid?

“It was awesome,” he added, almost dreamily, though he composed himself quickly. “Not that the fighting was good or anything. It was bad. Should never have happened. There was lots of property damage…”

Deciding that now was probably not the time to tell Peter how she felt about the whole “Civil War” situation between the Avengers, she kept her mouth shut.

She did have one question though. “Did you have to sign the accords?”

“What? Me?” He asked, gesturing to himself. “Nah. I didn’t have to.”

The corner of her lip twitched upward into a faint smirk. “Cause you aren’t old enough?” As far as the world knew, Spider-Man was this… ageless being. No one knew anything about him.

“Yeah…” He nodded solemnly. “Wait—” His eyes widened at a near cartoonish speed. “No! I’m totally old enough! I’m not a kid! I don’t know why you would think—I don’t know—Uhm—I’m— I’m an adult! I do taxes and stuff! I pay bills! The economy! I just didn’t want to sign it because…” He rambled, glancing around frantically.

She scoffed. “Dude, chill.”

He sighed in defeat.

“I won’t tell anyone that Spidey has a curfew. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Yeah, she knew the _whole_ secret, but he didn’t need to know that. And it really was safe with her.

“Uh… yeah. Thanks,” he said, a hint of shyness to his tone. _“What? No, Karen. I’m not gonna_ — _no.”_

Michelle quirked a brow at him, nodding in his direction. “What did Karen say this time?”

He seemed to be in a constant state of flustered, but this seemed to make it worse. The, “Nothing,” came out a little too quickly to be any kind of believable. “Nothing important.”

Michelle hummed, though not buying it. If she had to make a guess, she’d say it probably had something do with telling her who he really was, finally coming clean about his alter-ego. That, or maybe coming clean about his possible feelings for her?

Ha ha. Fat chance.

Before she could say anything else, a wave of nausea crashed over her, drowning out all other feelings. She thought morning sickness was supposed to be in the morning. She groaned, her hand instinctively coming up to rest on her stomach. “Ugh, damn it, Parker,” she cursed under her breath, needing someone to blame for this twisting in her stomach.

Spider-Man startled, nearly tripping over himself as they stopped. “Huh?”

“It’s nothing,” She said, shutting her eyes, trying to concentrate the sloshing away.

He tilted his head, reaching a tentative hand out to her, resting just below her elbow. “Are you okay?”

She attempted to wave his hand off, but he put it right back. “Yeah. I’m good. Just some… evening sickness I guess.”

He didn’t say anything as he stared at her, which with the mask was a little unsettling, if she were being honest.

“I’m fine. Really. I can puke at home. Come on, we’re almost there.”

He conceded, once again falling into step with her as they neared her neighborhood. The rest of the walk was a peaceful quiet, a significantly less amount of small talk passing between them. Her stomach was still turning, but she knew it would pass. Sometimes if she ignored them enough, these spells went away without her having to spill her guts everywhere.

Risking a few glances at him, seeing him so up close and in all his spidery glory, it really dawned on her that this guy, this hero, was her best friend. It was really trippy. Here was a kid who somehow got superpowers, and decided that being selfless and helping others was the way to go. He could so easily just take advantage of all this, be the coolest kid in school, but he didn’t. And it may not have been dangerous all the time, but it wasn’t always just shoe thieves and shoplifters.

For the second time that night, she wondered if he’d ever trust her enough to tell her.

“This is me,” She said, gesturing to the front door, sliding the plastic bags to her elbows as she fished around for her keys.

He didn’t follow her up the porch steps, maintaining a reasonable distance. “Alright, well, take care of yourself, okay? And always look both ways before crossing a street!” He wagged a finger at her.

“Ha. Funny,” She deadpanned, though she couldn’t hide the amused twinkle in her eye.

He was about to leap off before she called out.

“Hey, Spidey?”

He stopped in his tracks, turning his entire body to face her. “Yeah?”

Not expecting all of his attention, she looked down at her shoes, chewing at the inside of her lip, before glancing up again. “Thanks.”

If it weren’t for his mask, she would have been able to see the dopey smile plastered on his face. “Yeah. Anytime.”

The key still in the door, she watched him swing off into the distance, disappearing in a matter of seconds.

A heavy sigh blew out of her as she pushed the door open, her brief wave of nausea now forgotten. The house was eerily quiet, the air still heavy from earlier. She unconsciously tiptoed to the kitchen, placing the bags of groceries as gently as she could on the counter, careful not to crinkle the plastic.

She felt her heartbeat quicken seeing her dad at the kitchen table, papers covering the table in front of him as he went over his store’s finances. His glasses sat at the edge of his nose as his eyes followed the text. Feeling another presence in the room, he passed her a glance, his stern expression unchanging. “Hey, Em.”

So they were back to the nickname. That was a good sign.

“Hi, Dad,” she gave a weak wave.

Judging by the time (nearly eight pm) and the steady hum of the running dishwasher, Michelle had missed dinner.

Her stomach growled.

Not looking up again from his work, Bill pointed into the kitchen. “Dinner’s in the microwave.”

She mumbled a quiet, “thanks,” shuffling over to get her food. After a deep, internal debate, she decided to try and sit next to him at the table, unsure as to how he was feeling at this point in time. Relief flooded her as he didn’t seem to notice.

The room fell silent again as she ate next to him; this was okay though. Now, she was having a chance to think about what the next move for her was; finding some parents to take this baby off of her hands. It probably wouldn’t be that hard, right?

“I’m gonna start looking for adoption agencies tonight,” she interrupted the silence, her voice a little scratchy from lack of use in the time she’d been home. “If I’m lucky, I’ll find something tonight.”

This time, Bill did look up at her, his face less stern, though not entirely gentle. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He nodded, before turning back to the paperwork. “Let me know when you do.”

And that was it.

Clearly, he wasn’t as mad as he’d been earlier, but he was still very much not over it. But Michelle could respect that; she didn’t expect this to all blow over in one evening. It would take time.

But that didn’t make it any less painful.

She finished her dinner, not saying another word, before turning in for the night.

She didn’t end up finding anything.

* * *

 

The next morning, Linda had scheduled a first trimester screening for Michelle for the following Monday. This was just to see how the little guy (or girl) was truckin’ along. It sounded weird, but she trusted Linda. She’d had a baby before, so she must know what she’s doing.

On the plus side, this meant Michelle got to skip school after lunch.

Her appointment came and went; everything was fine and dandy. The baby was making some good progress. It had fingernails now, apparently. And all it’s vital organs were up and running. Linda even made her download a weird app on her phone that tracked the little sucker’s growth.

Right now, it was about the size of a strawberry.

So that was kinda cool.

What was not cool was how Michelle’s skinny jeans were getting a little too tight for her liking. She still wasn’t showing, but she had definitely put on some weight. Also, and she couldn’t really decide if this was a welcome change or not, but her boobs had grown a bit. It wasn’t noticeable at this point, but she’d read somewhere that they’d grow a full cup size in the first trimester.

Her body was basically getting the house ready for a guest that wasn’t gonna be there for another seven or so months.

Everything was weird.

And ever since she told her parents, they’d been different around her. Bill, after he had calmed down for the most part, was much more careful with her, now holding back his sarcastic jokes that he normally would have let freely flow. He was more mindful with his words around her, and to be honest, Michelle didn’t like that one bit. A constant sense of normalcy might have been the only thing that would help her get through this. If everyone was walking on eggshells this entire time, she was going to lose it.

Linda, on the other hand, just went into ultimate mom-mode. First, scheduling the appointment, and then she was buying her vitamins, special foods, this weird lotion stuff for her stomach. There were so many rules and regulations to this whole pregnancy thing; no certain cheese, like brie, no fish, which meant almost no sushi, or shellfish, no unpasteurized milk, and what might have been the worst part, no deli meats. Michelle didn’t realize how much she wanted a ham sandwich until Linda said they were off limits. It was torture.

Part of Michelle wondered if Linda in all her doting-glory was actually excited about this whole baby thing. She just wanted to be so involved, which was touching in it’s own way.

The evening after her appointment, MJ had set aside some more time for an intense googling session on “how to put a baby up for adoption.”

The first few nights of looking, she came up empty.

This was the night she would find something. She had to.

What she got was an overwhelming field of information. There were websites upon websites, agencies by the hundreds. She clicked on one site and almost fell off her bed at the amount of available families.

At this point, she had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to make any kind of choice.

Narrowing it down to “adoption agencies in queens,” was a little better. There was still a multitude of options, but this was much more manageable.

The Forever Family Adoption Services seemed pretty legit.

All of their families were cleared on background checks and everything.

The first couple she saw was a middle-aged man and woman, their profile picture one of those awkward family photos you always see memes about, the two surrounded by one, two, three, four kids, all smiling cheesily at the camera.  

She immediately clicked away.

Maybe it was petty of her, but they had plenty of kids. They didn’t need one more.

The next pair wasn’t any better. They were literally standing in front of a fake forest background. Who did they think they were fooling?

She lost count of how many families she’d scrolled past; she was almost beginning to think she was being too picky. Could you blame her though? She couldn’t live with herself if she gave her baby to a family that’s bio asked her to “complete our circle of love.”

After what felt like the thousandth family, she grabbed the top of her laptop, ready to slam it shut, but the next couple down caught her eye.

Their names were Dave and Sarah Williams, and they were beautiful even in their black-and-white picture.

> “Dear Birthmother (or parents),
> 
> We want to take the time to thank you for considering adoption. We understand that it is not easy, and is in fact one of the hardest things someone can ever do. We cannot know all that you are going through, but we appreciate all the love and courage that it takes for you to make a decision like this.
> 
> We (Dave and Sarah) have been happily married for ten years this spring, and have been wanting children since our wedding day. Dave is an aspiring artist, working primarily as an Illustrator. Sarah works as a Genetic Counselor at Columbia University. We live in a safe and happy neighborhood, with a great school district. If chosen, we will be sure to provide your child with a loving and supportive home, and will do everything in our power to help him or her to succeed.
> 
> Thank you so much for your consideration. No matter your decision, we hope that you find what you need, and that you and your baby’s lives are filled with peace and strength.”

Okay, maybe the last line was a little much, but Michelle couldn’t help but be drawn to Dave and Sarah. A cool artist and a brainy scientist? The kid would definitely have some rad parents, that’s for sure.

She clicked their names, scrolling to find their contact information. Sure, there may have been other families, but there was just something in her that _knew._ It was just a gut feeling that she couldn’t ignore. This felt right. She had to get in touch.

A small smile tugged at her lips, her hand resting unconsciously over her stomach for a brief moment.

Taking a quick breath, Michelle opened up her email, her stomach fluttering in excitement as she began typing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this chapter! Let me know what ya think ;)
> 
> If you want story and even life updates, you can follow my tumblr at "spiderman-homecomeme" 
> 
> <3


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I want to take the time to thank you all for sticking with me and being so patient! I'm so so so so sorry that this chapter took so long. I explained more on my tumblr, but I had just a lot of life happen at once and then classes started up again and I just wasn't able, both mentally and physically, to write. 
> 
> Again, thanks for being so patient. You all are awesome. 
> 
> Also, thank you all for reading, writing comments, and leaving kudos! It really means so much to me!! <3
> 
> Anyway, here is the new chapter, and I hope you all like it!!

In all of her excitement in actually finding a nice couple, Michelle had almost forgotten to let Peter in on it—pregnancy brain and all that. So, the next day after finding Dave and Sarah, she had waited by his locker, picking at her nails. It might have been better to run it by him before she sent that email, but damn it, she was just so excited.

Not the best excuse, but still.

Eventually, he had shown up, the halls almost empty after the final bell had rung. She told him all about the couple, showing him their profile and everything. At first, he had seemed flustered, doing that nervous thing where he scratches the back of his neck and struggles to form human sentences, but after the initial shock of it, he seemed to calm down. He even smiled as he looked at their pictures, sharing in her enthusiasm.

But his face had gone a weird shade of white the next day between sixth and seventh period, when she’d told him that the couple had actually agreed to an interview. And that it was today.

“Yeah, I figured we’d do an initial one just so I could see if we actually liked these people,” Michelle explained, adjusting the strap of her bookbag, finding it difficult to look right at Peter. After he didn’t respond, she looked up. Maybe he was nervous about meeting them. “You don’t have to go to this one, by the way,” she added, trying her best to make some eye contact. “But you’ll probably need to come to the second one… if there is one. Signing papers and all that.”

He still seemed at a loss for words.

Michelle rocked back on her heels, quickly glancing from her left to right before settling on him. “Is that okay?”

That seemed to jar him out of whatever trance he was in. “Oh! Yeah, that sounds great,” he reassured her, though it was still a little unconvincing.

“Okay, cool. I think we’re actually meeting them today right after school; my dad and I,” she laughed nervously. “I know it’s soon, but I kinda wanted to… you know… get it over with.”

Peter nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in his throat. He looked down, releasing a shaky sigh. “Yeahyeahyeahyeah totally.”

Michelle tilted her head, questioning. “You good, dude?”

“I just… uhm…” he let out a sharp exhale. “I uh—I need to talk to you about something.”

Uh-oh.

Michelle waited patiently for him to elaborate, raising her brows.

“It’s—”

Just as he’d finished the last consonant, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of seventh period,

As much as she hated to leave him like this, Michelle had to leave. She turned, walking backwards as she called out to him. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? Your place? Tonight? 7:00? You’ll have snacks for me? Cool.”

Peter stood rigidly at his locker, hands fumbling nervously with each other as he watched her walk away. “Yeah sounds great.”

* * *

 

It was a twenty-six minute drive to the Williams residence, twenty if Michelle’s dad really stepped on it.

Michelle sat in the passenger seat, head leaning against the window as the suburbs of New York passed by. Shutting her eyes, she let herself focus on the monotonous hum of the car in an effort to clear her mind. Still, her leg jiggled, foot tapping as her fingers played with the ties of her hoodie. The occasional clicking of the turn signal— which, by the way, rarely ever lined up with the music they were listening to, much to her annoyance— didn’t do anything to helped her frayed nerves.

She still felt kind of bad about leaving Peter at his locker like that, and she felt bad about not catching him after school, but she was meeting and interviewing _the_ potential adoptive parents today. It was a pretty big deal.

Taking a breath, she opened her eyes, unlocking her phone and reading through the list of questions she had pre-prepared for the interview.

She wasn’t sure why she was so jittery,  unable to tell if it was nerves or excitement. She’s met new people before. Though, granted, she’s never had to interview people wanting to take her unborn child… but that was beside the point. If she really broke this down, all it was was a conversation, they were just using this to get to know two people. That happened to want the baby that was currently growing inside of her.

Piece of cake.

Before she knew it, they had turned into a large, tidy neighborhood, passing rows and rows of medium-sized, modest homes.  

A little after contacting the agency, Michelle had done some research on the small suburb of Jericho. Apparently it was pretty decent, with an “excellent” school district. Dave and Sarah even lived down the street from one of the more exemplary elementary schools. Which was good, she guessed. For the future and stuff.

They lived on in one of those restored old houses. It was decently sized, two stories, pale blue, almost-grey siding with white trim. A well-tended garden, lush green grass, and a large, picturesque dogwood tree really pulled the whole picture together.

Overall, it was pretty cute.

Even though they had arrived, Michelle didn’t move to step out of the car as her dad took the keys out of the ignition.

This was going to be fine. Everything was going to work out.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Michelle opened the door. The walk up to the porch seemed to last an eternity, her and her father’s footsteps being unnaturally loud in the outside air.

Almost as soon as they had rung the doorbell, the door swung open, and they were greeted with the beaming face of Sarah Williams. She was a very pretty, well-put-together woman, very Talbots, in her early thirties, dark brown hair framing her face in coiling, defined curls. In a way, she almost looked like she could be Michelle’s twin, same skin-tone, hair color and everything.

Albeit, she was much older, clearer skin, and with nicer hair, so maybe just a big sister. But still.

“Hi! I’m Sarah,” Visibly flustered, the woman extended her hand. “You must be Michelle,” then to the older man. “Mr. Jones. Nice to meet you both.” She said nothing else, now just beaming brightly at both of them.

Bill cleared his throat.

Sarah’s smile grew, and she laughed, almost making fun of herself. “Oh! Yes, come in. Sorry. Come on in.”

As they stepped over the threshold, they were met with muted hues of greys and whites, illuminated by the natural light coming in through the vast bay windows. Cool air-conditioning washed over them, the faint scent of a teakwood candle hanging on the air. There wasn’t a spec of dust, the place was impossibly clean.

“Thank you for having me and my irresponsible child over to your home,” Bill says as Sarah guides them to the living room.

Sarah laughs, waving her hand. “Oh, no. Thank _you.”_ She glances to Michelle, unsure how to respond to the “irresponsible child” remark. Michelle just smiles a tight-lipped smile.

“Please, sit,” Sarah gestures to the couches. “Make yourselves at home.”

MJ doesn’t hesitate in plopping herself down.

Minutes later, a man that she can only assume is Dave comes in; he’s a boyishly handsome guy, mid-thirties. He’s dressed up almost as much as Sarah is, but the air around him is much more relaxed and casual. “Hey, I’m Dave. The husband,” He smiles warmly at them, moving to shake their hands.

“Does anyone want a drink or anything?” Sarah asked, gesturing behind her with her thumb. “Water? Sparkling water? We have some sodas? Coffee? Decaf, for you Michelle?”

“I’ll just have a Manhattan. Up,” Michelle deadpanned, earning a glare from her father.

Sarah’s smile fell for a split-second as she tilted her head in confusion, before letting out a chuckle.  

“Michelle, much like her father,” Bill began, glancing back at his daughter. “Has a delightful sense of humor.”

This time, Sarah’s laugh was stronger, more confident, Dave joining in.

After a few more minutes of subjecting each other to obligatory small talk, Sarah returned with glasses of water.

“So, Michelle,” Sarah began, settling down onto the couch. She folded her hands in her lap, turning slightly to face her. “How far along are you?”

“I’m a junior.”

“No,” she laughed, but it wasn’t taunting. It was warm. “I mean in your pregnancy.”

Michelle blew out an amused and embarrassed huff. “Oh yeah. Well, I had my first official doctor’s appointment the other day and they said I was about eleven weeks.”

Sarah’s smile returned, though not as big as it had been. “So you’re almost to your second trimester?”

MJ nodded. “Yeah. Doctor says I’m due March 28th.”

Sarah let out an endeared sigh, placing her hand on her chest. “Well, from what I’ve read, and seen, you’re almost out of the hardest part! The first couple of months are always the toughest.”

“Yeah, I mean… we’ll see,” Michelle laughed again, a little awkwardly.

“I just think pregnancy is so beautiful.”

Michelle didn’t really see the _beauty_ in this whole process. It was all kind of weird and scary, and a little gross if she were being honest. “Well, you’re lucky it’s not you!” She quipped, a quiet snort following behind the remark.

At the way Sarah’s smile falters, and also the way her father glares at her, Michelle immediately realizes what she said, but it’s too late to take it back now.

That was the problem.

That was why they were there.

It _couldn’t_ be Sarah.

Michelle shrinks back into the couch, wanting to disappear forever.

Thankfully, Dave clears his throat, taking the attention off of what just happened. “Alright, well, do you have any questions for us?”

Michelle nodded silently, deciding not to look at them, at least for a little bit. Pulling her phone out and scrolling through her carefully thought out list, she suddenly found herself a little timid. What did she ask first?

“So, how long have you guys wanted to be parents?” She had settled on that, shrugging slightly as if she were unsure of her own question.

Dave and Sarah smiled as they shared a knowing glance. “Sarah’s wanted a baby since we got married,” Dave said, his voice soft.

His wife nodded, smiling. “I want to be a mom so bad.”

Bill grinned at that, gesturing to Dave. “What about you, Dave? You wanna be a dad?”

At that, Dave seemed a little caught off guard, having been too focused on Sarah. He startled, looking away from his wife and to Bill. His surprise disappeared though, and was replaced with quiet excitement. “Yeah, of course. What guy doesn’t want to be a father?” He and Sarah exchange more smiles.

It was so gross how in love they were, but it still warmed Michelle’s heart, damn it. She gave a soft smile, nodding. “Well hey! If we go through with this whole thing, the baby will definitely look like your kid!” Michelle laughed, but grew quiet again at the confused looks both potential parents were giving her.

“The dad’s white,” Michelle clarified, briefly looking away. “Very white.”

Sarah and Dave both chuckled.

So they thought she was funny. That was good.

This time, Bill cleared his throat. “So, what makes you guys believe that you would be good parents? I mean, aside from the fact that you aren’t high schoolers, of course,” he gave a tight smile, his eyes crinkling in amusement.

Sarah was the first to answer, clearly excited to answer this one. “Well, I have two nieces and a nephew, so I’ve had a lot of experience taking care of children. The nieces, my brother’s girls, are about five and seven now, and my nephew, my sister’s son, just turned four,” she went on. “Since they all live pretty close, I’ve spent a lot of time with them, but especially my nephew. He was a bit the handful for my sister, and I just helped out whenever I could. We eventually figured out everything that he needed from us, and now he’s doing really well! He’s happy and he’s healthy.

And… I know it sounds cliche, but… Do you ever just feel like you were born to do something? Like there’s something you were always meant to do? I don’t know… I just feel like this is something I was made for, you know? Both literally and figuratively.”

They all shared a faint laugh.

Bill and Michelle only smiled, nodding. Bill looked to Dave, eyebrows raising in question. “What about you, Dave?”

The younger man chuckled, looking down slightly before turning his gaze to his wife, smiling tenderly. “I just think we make a good team, you know?” He shrugged. “Sarah’s got our whole future planned out. She’s looking out for what’s ahead.” His wife’s lips tugged upward shyly as his hand runs up and down her arm. “Meanwhile, I’m here, just in the present, keeping us in the now. We’ve got both bases covered. Kid’s not gonna have to worry about a thing.”

Bill nodded again, sitting back against the couch, hands folding into his lap as he listened intently.

While it as very sweet, their answer, Michelle was still a bit unsure. She knew that this was only question number two, and that she had many, many more, and she wasn’t any kind of ready to make a deal just yet.

After a moment, they turned to Michelle, waiting for another question. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, finding herself not ready. She looked back to her father.

Bill seemed to take the hint. “What were you thinking for childcare during the day? You two have pretty successful careers, so what would the plan be?”

Once again, Sarah spoke first, though she seemed to rein in some of her excitement. “Well, I would be able to take twelve weeks of paid maternity leave from Columbia, so obviously I would take that time off to stay with the baby,” Sarah explained. “And my boss has already said that even after my leave, I am more than welcome to work from home if I find that I need more time. And Dave works most days at home, so until I go back to the office, the child would have two parents home at all times. And if Dave would have to leave for some reason, there are a few quality daycares in the area that would be more than suitable.”

Dave didn’t add anything, only nodding slowly.

“Stay-at-home-dad,” Michelle said, impressed. “You sure you’re up for the challenge, Dave?”

The man laughed, his eyes drifting over to his wife again. “I think I can handle it,” his voice was soft, but not weak.

After a few more questions from her father, Michelle was starting to get more and more comfortable with the couple. They seemed to have read every single parenting book ever made, because they knew all their shit. That’s how good they were. In the AP test of raising kids, they would have definitely gotten a five, they had obviously studied that much.

Which only made MJ start to wonder how much time they’d had to be able to learn and retain all of this information, how long they’d been trying, wanting to have a child.

They were ready before Michelle was even in the picture.

“Our family is very supportive of the idea of adoption,” Dave said, after Bill had asked a question on whether or not their extended family was behind this decision. “No, yeah, they’re really excited. They know how much we’ve wanted this. They’ll love the kid just the same.”

Sarah nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely. Everyone is just so hopeful and excited for us.”

Dave smiled. “Michelle, did you have anything to ask us?”

Up until now, she had remained fairly quiet, periodically interjecting with some kind of humorous comment, getting quiet again when she’d get a the laugh she wanted out of the couple, but mainly listening and taking in all that they had to say.

Michelle nodded, feeling like she was ready as she’d ever be to ask all of her questions. And boy, did she have some good ones:

What school were they planning for the kid? What would they do if the kid didn’t want to go to college? Were they going to raise them to be religious? Republican? Democrat? Did they care if their child played with toys that were not intended for their gender? What would they read to their child? Would their children be involved in fine arts? Would they encourage free-thinking? Or would they want their child to have the same values and beliefs that they held? How open would they be with the kid? And would they let the child get a dog? A cat? If so what kind?

Those last three questions were not as pressing, but they were still very important.

But, as she looked at her phone, reading all the quick-fire questions she had come up with, she hesitated. Having been listening to them and their answers in the past hour, she began to realize… none of that really mattered in the end. _She_ wasn’t the one that was going to be raising this baby, so she wasn’t about to tell Sarah and Dave how to do it. They were the ones who knew what they were doing. She was very, very ill-equipped. In the end, it would be their child and really, all Michelle wanted was for it to be loved and happy. And from the short time she’d been with Dave and Sarah, she could tell that they’d provide all that and more.

She put her phone down, looking up at them, meeting their kind gazes. “Actually, no. I don’t have any. I think… I think we’re good,” she said, her lips pulling upward into a slow, small smile. “Do… you guys have any?”

The couple shared another glance before looking back to her. “We do,” Sarah said. “We were wondering what your thoughts were on receiving updates and pictures throughout the years, how you felt about an open adoption?”

In reality, Michelle hadn’t considered that much. She mostly assumed that they would do this old school, she’d give them the baby, and it’d be done. They’d close it right up. That was what she wanted, anyway. It seemed like the most logical course of action.

But she wasn’t sure if that was what Peter wanted. They hadn’t talked about it. And yes, she knew that it wasn’t just about pleasing the baby daddy, but she still wanted to include him in this whole thing, even if she’d already messed that up in setting up an interview without him.

She knew that Peter cared about this just as much as she did. Honestly, he probably cared more, knowing him.

“Um…” Michelle said, pressing her lips together. “I’m not sure. We can talk about this at the next interview or something, that way the dad can have some input.”

Sarah’s face lit up. “You want to go on with the second interview?”

Michelle nodded, shrugging slightly. “Yeah, I mean, I like you guys. And I wanna get to know you more. You’re pretty cool. And I want Peter to meet you.”

“Peter’s the father?” Dave asked.

“Yeah, and I’m sure he’d be really excited to interview you guys. He wants to be as involved as he can.”

“Well, that’s awesome,” the man smiled, nodding thoughtfully.

“Yeah,” Michelle agreed, shifting slightly in her seat.

For a moment, they only heard the ticking of the clock on the mantle, silence now falling over them. Whether it was comfortable or uncomfortable, MJ couldn’t place.

She decided it was only slightly uncomfortable.

The light awkwardness was short-lived, Michelle’s dad speaking up, asking where the bathroom was. They happily told him, Sarah turning to face her. “Michelle, do you want to take a break and take a tour of the house?”

More so out of curiosity than anything, Michelle agreed.

The rest of the house was just as impossibly clean as the entryway and living room had been. Very minimalistic. Along the wall, there were a few pictures of Dave and Sarah; some professional photoshoots, and some more natural and candid.

They looked so in love.

MJ wondered what that was like, and then was really grossed out at how cliche that thought was.

The ground floor had the basic rooms; living, dining, foyer, bathroom, kitchen, etc. On the second level was Dave’s studio for all of his art, the walls lined with paintings and drawings. He was actually pretty good, not that she was surprised. She’d have to ask him about those someday.

The next room over was the study, shelves upon shelves of books along the perimeter; more books than you could shake a stick at. It was heaven for Michelle; she almost completely tuned out Sarah as she was talking about the process of restoring the wood floors and tearing up the horrible carpet some baby-boomer had covered it with.

Michelle stood in front of one of the bookcases, her eyes passing over each and every spine, and she was surprised to find that she hadn’t read over half of the ones she saw.

Impressive.

“You like books, Michelle?” Dave’s voice nearly made her jump, but she hid her surprise.

She turned her head to look at him, her brows crinkling together. “Oh, so _that’s_ what those are,” she shook her head, scoffing slightly.

He gave an amused chuckle at her sarcastic remark.

“I think I spend more time with characters in books than with people in real life,” Michelle almost mumbled, turning her attention back to the shelves.

Dave nodded. “I get it,” he said, smiling. “Well, if you see any you haven’t read, feel free to borrow them. You’re more than welcome to.”

Honestly, that was the best thing he could have ever said to her. “Oh, thanks,” she replied, masking her emotions under a nonchalant expression.

She’d definitely have to take him up on that offer.

The next room over seemed to be the one Sarah was most giddy about.

“And this,” the woman paused, swinging the door open with excitement. “Is the nursery. Or… it will be the nursery.” She stepped in, gesturing to the pale walls. “We’re thinking of a muted yellow, just to keep it gender neutral. And then we’ll change it to whatever the child likes when they’re older.”

“Awesome,” Michelle said, genuinely impressed, though not really showing it.

Dave followed them in, chuckling. “Honey, don’t you think it’s a little early to be picking the colors? Much less showing them the baby room?”

Sarah glanced down, sheepish. “Oh, right. I guess,” she said, leading them out of the empty room.

Maybe it was a bit strange that they didn’t even have a baby yet and they had a baby room, but  the truth was, Michelle didn’t really think anything of it. She wasn’t really weirded out. It wasn’t like they had furniture yet. To her, it was just a testament to how prepared they were. Clearly, they’d put a lot of thought into this whole thing.

But then, there was another thought; a room was picked and ready, so had they been through this before, but the adoption didn’t go through for some reason?

They were telling Michelle so much without actually speaking.

Eventually, they found themselves on the main level once again, ending the tour. Bill and Michelle didn’t really have anymore questions, having asked plenty for one day. They planned for the second interview to be the next week, giving both parties plenty of time to get things in order for the next meeting, which Peter and hopefully May would attend.

At this point, Michelle couldn’t see herself not picking the Williamses. Yes, there were still some hoops they had to jump through to get everything set up, but she _liked_ them, she really did. And sure, Sarah was a little intense, but she was just excited. She was nervous. That was understandable. And Dave. Dave was just a cool, caring guy. They both seemed so in love, so in sync with each other. The baby would no doubt be in excellent, more than qualified hands. He or she would grow up in a loving, supportive environment.

Again, that was all Michelle could ask for.

Linda had said at one point that someone was going to find a precious blessing from Jesus in this dumpster fire of a situation.

And she was right.

“You can probably go ahead and get all the paperwork stuff for us all to sign, too,” Michelle said as they all walked to the front door, Dave opening it for them.

Sarah’s eyes widened in shock, her brows raising. She smiled, though she still looked slightly confused. “You’re picking us?”

Michelle started to nod, opening her mouth to speak, before Bill cut in.

“Now, Em, you need to think about this,” He warned, before passing an apologetic look to the young couple. “No offense.”

Dave held both hands up. “None taken.”

“Are you sure, Michelle?” Sarah asked, her eyes sparkling with hope. And possibly a tear or two.

Michelle rocked back on her heels, glancing around the room, her eyes landing on the potential adopters. “I mean, I can’t officially say anything yet. I have to let the baby daddy meet you first, right?”

Both nodded, understanding.

“But, between you and me?” she paused, a faint smile forming. “You guys have this in the bag.”

The tears forming in Sarah’s eyes didn’t get to fall, her delicate hand coming up to wipe them away before they could. Dave wrapped an arm around his wife, squeezing her tightly, his lips pressing against her temple.

It almost felt as if Michelle were intruding on this sweet moment, a husband and wife holding each other. She averted her gaze, not wanting to ruin anything. But still, she couldn’t help the warm feeling in her chest, the way her lips tugged upward.

Doing something like this, something that benefited someone else so much, felt good.

Sarah looked back up, mouthing a ‘thank you.’

Wow, now Michelle might cry. Damn.

“Well, it was nice meeting you guys,” MJ said, stepping over the threshold onto the porch, finding herself unable to handle all this emotion at once. “See you next Wednesday.”

Bill smiled, giving a single nod as he shook both Dave and Sarah’s hands once again. “What she said,” He joked.

They said their official goodbyes, and Michelle and her dad were on their way home.

The ride was a peaceful quiet, a sense of relief flooding both of them. Though they were far from finished, they couldn’t help but feel at ease.

Michelle leaned her head against the window, closing her eyes, the corners of her lips pulling into a soft smile.

* * *

 

Michelle almost forgot that she had told Peter she’d be at his place at 7:00 that night. It was nearly 6:45 when she leapt out of her bed in a rushed panic, knocking her textbooks to the floor in the process. She checked her phone; an unread text from Peter, clarifying that they were indeed supposed to meet in fifteen minutes.

Her thumbs flew about the screen as she quickly typed a reply, _“Yeah I’m omw, loser. Be there in five.”_

She would not be there in five.

It was more of a fifteen or sixteen… or twenty.

Still, Peter didn’t seem all that upset when he opened the door, letting her in without a protest. He had that trademark, Peter Parker dopey grin. It was cute.

And his curls were particularly curly today. So that was nice.

But she did have to fight the eye roll at the “Dino Puns are Pteroble,” shirt he was wearing.

She pushed passed him, nearly running to the pantry, searching for any kind of snack that Linda had banned from her own house. There wasn’t much digging until she found it. The jackpot. Humming in contentment, she chose some off-brand Cheez-Its, popping a few into her mouth as she walked into the living room and collapsed on the couch.

Peter gingerly followed her in, standing stiffly at the edge of the couch, a contrast to the lazy lounging she was currently doing.

It was when he didn’t move for a few minutes that Michelle threw a side-eye glance at him. “You gonna sit or is your butt broken, or something?”

He sputtered, before flopping himself a little two quickly on the opposite end of the couch. But even after that, he still didn’t really say anything as he sat with her, the only sound being the crunch of cheese crackers as Michelle continued to snack.

While she knew that he wanted to talk about something, she wasn’t about to be the one to bring it up. Especially if it was about what she thought it was about.

Maybe now he’d finally tell her about Spider-Man.

And, like the good friend she was, she wanted to let him be the one to broach that topic, not wanting him to feel cornered or forced to tell her.

Honestly, if she had known that all it took for Peter to tell her about his double life as the masked vigilante superhero was getting pregnant, she would have done it ages ago.

She’s kidding, obviously.

However, as patient as she thought she was, the silence was getting to be a bit much. There wasn’t even anything playing on the TV, no background noise. There was nothing. Just the crunch of delicious, perfectly salty, off-brand Cheez-Its.

She had to break the tension somehow.

“Look at my stomach,” she said, throwing a cracker at him.

He jumped, throwing her a thoroughly confused look. “Huh?”

And he was even more befuddled when she started to pull her shirt up, but stopping just at the bottom of her ribcage.

“Look,” she ordered again, pointing at her bare stomach.

His eyes narrowed as he looked, just as she’d said, throwing a wary glance her way when nothing happened. “What am I looking at?”

She shifted slightly, lifting her middle a bit, emphasizing her growing belly. “It’s getting bigger.” While she wasn’t huge yet, she was on her way. Soon enough, she’d be an actual whale.

It was then that Peter seemed to perk up. “Oh yeah, I guess it is! Is it kicking yet?”

Michelle scoffed. “No, dude, that’s not for another couple of weeks.”

“Oh,” he seemed disappointed.

“Still cool though,” she shrugged.

“Yeah… It is,” he agreed, his voice drifting off as he became lost in thought.

That distraction, while it helped at the time, was a total bust, and ended just as quickly as it had began. Once again, they said nothing, Michelle pulling out her phone and adjusting her shirt when it was clear that no further conversation was going to be had.

When another ten minutes passed, she briefly pondered the idea of just saying something that would maybe… get the ball rolling. Like a hint that she already knew. Something like, “oh by the way, Parker, I wanted two-percent milk. You got whole,” referring to the time he’d spilled all her groceries when trying to save her.

She had to force down the chuckle that had caught in her throat at the image of just how he’d react to her saying that.

She decided that maybe that wasn’t the best way to do it.

But the way he was bouncing his leg up and down, the way his hand was gripping the armrest, knuckles almost turning white at the pressure, she was going to go mad if he didn’t say at least _something._

Because clearly _something_ was on his mind.

Tired of this whole game, Michelle spoke up, breaking the long silence. “What’s up, Parker?” She asked, popping another cracker into her mouth.

He inhaled sharply as he looked at her in surprise. “Huh?”

“You’re all… fidgety. What’s up? You wanted to talk? That’s why we’re here?”

He shook his head, clearing his throat. “It’s uh… just… it’s… Gah, this is hard.” It really was. Peter had no idea how to just say something like this. He hadn’t ever actually told anyone before. Ned and May just found out on accident. He didn’t really have to do anything.

“What are you, pregnant or something?” She smirked up at him, placing her phone down at her side.

That got a faint laugh, but it was gone in a second. “No, I—” He stopped himself, swallowing. “I just… I need to tell you something.”

Michelle stopped chewing, sitting forward on the couch and placing the box on the floor.

Peter looked anywhere in the room but at her, trying to find the words he wanted to say. “And I should have told you earlier… I really should have… you shouldn’t be finding out like this.”

She didn’t say anything as she watched him expectantly, her gaze steady.

He looked down at his hands. “And then… when you told me you were meeting with potential adoptive parents today… ugh, God.” He finally looked at her, his expression grave. His hands were unnecessarily sweaty; a lump started to form in his throat. The room was silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. “Listen… I have… this thing,” he let out a shaky exhale, carding a nervous hand through his brown curls. “And I’m—I’m worried that the baby will have it too.”

Unconsciously, MJ rested her hand on her belly. “What? Do you have a third nipple or something? Because I would have seen it when we—”

“MJ, can you be serious for just one second?” Peter pleaded, his voice exasperated and impatient.

Her laugh was tense. Humor was her best defense against any emotion. “No, I can’t. Because if I am, I _will_ cry.”

Peter looked down again, muttering an apology, though there wasn’t really any reason for one. When he glanced back up at her, if it was possible at all, he looked about ten times more nervous. He was about to tell her the biggest secret of his entire life. At any moment, he felt like he could just throw up, emptying the entire contents of his stomach everywhere, all over everything. He took a deep breath. “I’m…” Another shaky sigh. “I’m… Uh…”

She was so tempted to finish that for him, but she held back, listening intently.

He swallowed, shaking his head, blinking a few times before finally meeting her gaze. “I’m Spider-Man.”

And there it was.

Funnily enough, with all that build-up, how long it took him to spit it out, and because she had already known for quite some time, Michelle forgot to react. He’d probably expected her to give her best Kevin McCallister in _Home Alone_ face, to ramble and stutter on and on about how she had no idea, how she didn’t see this coming, that he was lying to her, he could never be a superhero. Instead, her face held no expression as her hand inched toward the box on the ground, reaching for another cracker.

Peter watched her expectantly, his brows pinched in concern. “MJ?”

“Yeah?”

“Did… did you hear me?”

After a moment of dead silence, Michelle finally spoke. “Oh! Sorry,” she cleared her throat, her voice becoming an exaggerated monotone. “Whaaaat? No way. You can’t be. I am so surprised. Quit playin’ around. You’re pullin’ my leg. Wowie. Heckin’ bamboozled. You got me.”

Peter wasn’t dumb; he immediately caught onto her sarcasm. “You knew?” He asked incredulously, his voice going about an octave higher.

Michelle shrugged, not glancing up at him. “Yeah.”

“What?! How did— How did you— How?”

“You aren’t as sneaky as you think you are, loser.”

Now, Peter looked about ready to die. He shot up from the couch, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “How long have you known?!”

“DC was about a year ago, right?”

Peter nearly fell over, sputtering. “Since DC?!”

“I mean, I was suspicious in DC,” She explained with a shrug. “But I definitely knew when you left girl-of-your-dreams Liz on the dancefloor at homecoming.”

He nodded, pursing his lips in thought.

“Yeah, and then we find out that same night, Spider-Man fights and beats the Vulture, who turns out to be Liz’s dad, and puts him in jail. All after Peter Parker leaves the dance,” She added, folding her arms across her chest. “Also, we did find your backpack webbed to a tree in DC. I’m amazed that no one else figured it out.”

Peter huffed, unsure if he was amused or more annoyed. “Yeah, well you’re you. You’re not anyone else.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she didn’t.

“Anyway,” Michelle blurted, wanting to move the conversation forward. “What does being Spider-Man have to do with the baby?”

“I’m just worried…” Again, Peter was having trouble looking right at her. As daunting as telling her about Spider-Man was, this was a whole other ball game. This was something that could directly affect her. “What if my powers are genetic?”

She almost scoffed at the notion. “Peter, that’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” He questioned, starting to pace the room. “I mean, I wasn’t technically born with these abilities—it’s a long story—and it’s not like the x-gene… but… It’s all in my blood. How do we know I’m not passing it down?”

As he talked, he seemed to be more and more panicked. The realization set in that maybe, he might be right, and Michelle felt the same uneasiness. But it wouldn’t really be helpful if they were both freaking out, so she had to be the rational one. “Well, okay. So what if it does get powers? What’s the worst it could have? Super strength?”

Peter nodded.

“Being sticky? Wall-crawling? Is the web-shooting you or…?”

“It’s uh… something I made.”

“Okay,” Michelle bit her lip, processing everything. “So, it’s not like the kid is going to be able to take over the world or anything. It’s not gonna be some kind of super villain. Even if it has powers, it’ll be fine. So don’t freak out, okay?”

“I know,” Peter responded, sighing shakily. “I just… I can’t help it. I can’t help but worry. About the baby. And with the couple you found… they may want it now, but what if they don’t want it anymore when they find out? Asking someone to take care of a baby with powers is… like, a lot. And, if they don’t want it, then we’d have to keep it. And… That’s not what you— what _we_ want.”

“You’re right,” Michelle replied, giving a solemn nod. “It’s not. But it’s not gonna come to that, okay?”

“But you don’t know that.”

She had no response to that. He was right. She didn’t know.

Peter sighed again, hanging his head. “It’s just— I’m worried about what’s gonna happen.  I’m worried…” He stopped, looking up at her, for once maintaining direct eye contact for more than a second. “I’m worried about you. What if _you_ get hurt?”

Oh, she absolutely despised how sweet and pure this guy could be sometimes. It wasn’t fair. She had a reputation to maintain—one that was being taken down, brick by brick, by this little entity in her uterus. Luckily for her, this time she _did not_ cry. She elected to just disregard the last part of that, at least seriously. “The baby isn’t going to eat me, and even if it does, I mean that’d be kinda cool, right? It’d make a good Lifetime movie,” When he showed no amusement, she cleared her throat. “Listen, Peter. There’s literally know way of telling right now. This thing is the size of a piece of fruit, so we can’t do much about it in terms of testing and what not,” she added, standing up to meet him. “We’ll find out when we find out.”

Peter nodded, but he still didn’t seem completely okay with that answer.

“It’ll be fine,” she reassured him, even though she wasn’t really sure herself. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to disregard his worries, but he seemed really freaked out about all this, and all she wanted to do right now was to calm him down. He didn’t need to worry.

And plus, it was already a lot for her. She could barely handle being pregnant, how was she supposed to handle the idea of being the host to some mutant super-baby?

Out of sight, out of mind, right?

“Just…” Peter started, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “If anything goes wrong, or if you notice anything weird… just promise you’ll tell me?”

MJ held her tongue, preventing anything sarcastic from coming out. She nodded slowly, swallowing. “I promise.”

He seemed to be okay with that, a heavy sigh of relief forcing its way out.

Even though they seemed to have solved that particular problem, there was still a heavy pit in her stomach. She really didn’t know what was going to happen. In all the commotion, she hadn’t once considered that this thing could potentially have powers. She didn’t think she was in any real danger, but it was still daunting. A super-baby would probably make for a different pregnancy, and she highly doubted there were any books on that particular topic as of yet.

So, how was she supposed to prepare for something like this?

But even with her concerns, she decided it was best to just follow her own advice; there was no way to even confirm or deny the genetic makeup of their little bun in the oven right now. They’d just have to wait and see.

“So, next Wednesday is the second interview?” Peter’s voice broke through her thoughts, the tone much softer than it had been.

“Yup,” she gave a single nod, biting the inside of her lip. “Five o’ clock. If you and May could come, that’d be great. To sign papers and stuff.”

Peter cleared his throat. “Yeah, definitely. I’ll be there. I’m not sure what May’s doing, but she’d probably drop whatever she was doing if it meant helping you.”

At that, Michelle grinned, both touched and amused, falling back onto the couch. “I love May.”

“Yeah, she loves you too,” Peter returned the smile, returning to his spot on the other end. “So, Dave and Sarah… are they cool?”

“They’re amazing,” she said, fondly remember their meeting just a few hours before. “Very wholesome. Cute couple. You’d love them.”

“That’s awesome!” He tried to sound enthusiastic, but she could tell that the stress was still very much there.

“Yeah, and they think I’m funny.”

“Oh, so they’re liars, that’s good.”

But he wasn’t stressed enough to not mess with her, obviously.

“Um, no? I’m hilarious.” She threw another cracker at him.

“Ehhhh…” Peter tilted his head, his voice going almost unnaturally high in pitch as he wiggled in hand.

“You laugh at literally all of my jokes. Even the ones that aren’t funny.”

“Those are pity laughs.”

She wanted to wipe that stupid little smirk off of his stupid little face. So she threw another cracker, but was disappointed as he caught it, laughing triumphantly before crunching on it smugly.

“Okay, you have no right to call me unfunny while you’re wearing that monstrosity,” she jabbed, pointing at his punny shirt.

His jaw dropped, eyebrows furrowing in offense. “Are you kidding? This shirt is hilarious.”

“Sure.” Her lips pressed together in a thin line, eyes widening slightly as she glanced away skeptically.

“Rude.”

One of Michelle’s favorite part about being friends with Peter and Ned, was that they could make her forget about how shitty life could be sometimes. They could distract her, so easily. Like just now, how moments before, she and Peter had been having this serious conversation that she honestly thought she was going to puke during because it was so stressful, and now she was trying to fight back a laugh as he valiantly defended each and every one of his science pun t-shirts.

And she knew Peter needed and appreciated the distraction, too.

Eventually, they stop talking, MJ only occasionally throwing cheese crackers at him now, and they end up watching TV, just mindlessly flipping through the options on Netflix. It’s pleasantly quiet, and even though MJ can’t help the twisting feeling in her stomach, she still feels a sense of calm just being with him.

They end up picking Law & Order.

A few episodes in, Peter nudges her, and she meets his big, brown puppy-dog eyes. “For the record, I was kidding. You are probably the funniest person I’ve ever met.”

The corners of her lips twitch upward slightly, her eyes closing for a brief moment. She opens her eyes and looks at him, the knot in her abdomen replaced with butterflies.

“I know.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget, if you want story/life updates, follow my tumblr spiderman-homecomeme! :)
> 
> Also, yes I do consider the x-men to be part of this universe now, but like... not in a huge way, you know? I just thought that the x-gene stuff related to this whole thing really well! Just kind of a fun easter eg I'm sorry if it bothers you pls forgive <3
> 
> Again, I'm so sorry for this chapter being vvvvvv late. i love u all for sticking with me. i appreciate u


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLOOOO FRIENDS. I am back. And I have a new chapter!! Sorry for the delay! School and life just kind of all decided to be difficult all at once! Thank you for your patience, and I really really really hope you enjoy this chapter and that the wait was worth it!! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone commenting, leaving kudos, and reading!! It means the world to me! Love you guys! :)

Twelve weeks along, and MJ’s tall, willowy frame was starting to betray her. Around this time, the twelve week mark, was right about when new mother to start showing, but she thought this might have been a bit excessive. Granted, her belly still wasn’t watermelon-under-the-shirt big—right now, she just looks like she ate a little too much Taco Bell or something. 

But still.

It was enough for her to have to stop wearing jeans to school. That wasn’t so bad though. It gave her an excuse to wear sweats or leggings everyday. If her shirt was baggy enough, you couldn’t even see the bump. 

Also, for the record, she has no idea where the myth of “pregnancy-glow” came from but it’s a fucking lie. There is no glow; there is only sweat. Walking from third to fourth period seriously leaves her breathless, a nice, faint sheen on top of her forehead. Basic, everyday things were now nearly impossible to do without having to take a moment to catch her breath, nearly gasping for air when she climbed the stairs to Peter’s apartment one day. And she thought she was out of shape before. 

And she hasn’t told anyone else; neither have Peter and Ned, she made sure of that. But, teenagers are awful, they notice things, and gossip travels fast. 

The too-long stares, the excited whispering; yeah, she noticed all of that. They aren’t that subtle.

The worst thing about being pregnant, aside from the weight gain, the mood swings, and just everything in general, was that MJ was no longer going to be a background character in the daily school life. She couldn’t observe from the safety of the sidelines, going by unnoticed wherever she went. 

Sure, it was just a few people now, but how many would there be when she got bigger? 

It wasn’t really something she wanted to think about. 

See, no one had the balls to even say anything to her though. 

She was walking a little late to decathlon, Ned and Peter at her side. They were jabbering on and on about some Netflix show, she wasn’t sure what, all she could focus on was keeping her breath somewhat even and not falling over from lack of oxygen.

Stepping through the classroom door, she was met with guilty silence. A hush fell over the entire room as she walked in, nerds at her heels. 

You know how when you walk into a room, and everyone suddenly stops talking, and you know that they were just talking shit about you? Yeah, it was one of those times. 

Twelve pairs of eyes bored right into her as she made her way to one of the desks, tossing her stuff down. She coughed, her body growing warm at all the attention. “Okay, guys, let’s get started.”

More because they were scared of MJ than anything else, her classmates slowly put their phones away, grabbing the study sheets from their bags, throwing the occasional wary stare at their team captain.

Just by how they were acting, Michelle knew that they were in for a long practice. Their reaction times were delayed, seconds passing before anyone would ring the bell after a question was asked. And even then, most of their answers were wrong.

When she stood from her chair, or when she stepped out from behind the podium, all eyes drifted to her midsection, lingering there for longer than necessary. 

She’d had enough.

“Okay,” she finally spoke up, her tone clipped. She kept her face impassive, continuing in a deadpan tone. “Not that my body is any of your business, but yes, I did in fact create human life. So, yes, I am currently with spawn right now. So, if you’d kindly stop ogling my stomach and focus, that’d be great.”

She was floored by the sexism in all this. Within weeks, people find out she’s pregnant, and care about it, but they still can’t even figure out that weirdo Peter Parker and Spider-Man are the same god damn person. 

So what if hers was more  _ physically _ noticeable?

A hushed murmur fell over her teammates, everyone throwing questions left and right. 

“When did this happen?” 

“What the hell??”

“Are you serious or is this some kind of prank?”

The one that stuck out the most, obviously: “Who’s the dad?”

Really, Michelle didn’t want to deal with this. So, while not the best way of handling things, she literally just gestured to Peter, who sputtered at the sudden attention, eyes comically wide with fear.

“What?!” A collective gasp filled the room, followed by the chattering of shocked students. 

A loud roar of laughter erupted over everyone’s talking. Flash nearly fell over in his chair, holding his stomach with both hands. “What? It can’t be little Penis Parker!” He laugh-shouted. “How do you even know it was him? Did you even feel it?” 

Oh, real mature. A joke about size. “Maybe try not to project your real-life experiences on Peter,” Michelle stated matter-of-factly. “Just because you’ve had performance issues doesn’t mean that someone else has.”

Flash’s jaw dropped, everyone else in the room quietly snickering. 

Looking over at Peter, and seeing the grateful, and a little amused, expression on his face made her heart skip a beat or two. She quickly averted her gaze, turning away from him. “Oh, and for the record, it was actually pretty good. Just so you know.”

She didn’t even need to look to know that Peter was beet red.

After that, everyone seemed to settle down, only occasionally passing a glance to her swelling stomach. It was a step in the right direction at least. Michelle figured there was nothing she could do about the staring, so she’d have to get used to it.

It wasn’t until practice was over, and everyone had left, that she felt as if she could finally breathe. Peter stayed behind to help her clean up, insisting that he do all the chair lifting and table moving. 

“Hey, uh—” Peter started, lifting a stack of three chairs and putting them on the rack with ease that was almost unfair. “Thanks for… you know… saying that. Back there.”

Michelle stared blankly at him, tilting her head as if trying to remember what the heck he was talking about. A look of realization passed over her face after a moment. “Oh, yeah. That. Uh, no problem.” 

She really really really hoped he wouldn’t ask if she meant what she said about it being “actually pretty good.” She even thought a silent prayer. While it was true in a way, she didn’t want to dig any of that up right at that moment.

Thankfully, he didn’t ask, instead he gave a shy smile and a single nod. 

After finishing cleaning up, they both grabbed their backpacks and were out the door, ready to go home. 

“Oh, hey don’t forget,” Michelle said. “Meeting with Dave and Sarah tonight.”

Peter faltered slightly, not really looking over at her as he responded a quiet, “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

He must have realized he was being a little too cold, so he grinned, putting all his energy into seeming at least a little excited, and not incredibly nervous. 

Michelle pulled her phone out, typing something out. “I’m sending you the address. Six o’clock. Don’t be late, loser.” 

“See you then.”

When she was out of sight, a breath Peter hadn’t realized he’d been holding blew out of him. He shook his head, mostly at himself, before pulling out his phone and staring at the text message she’d just sent. 

His stomach tightened, twisting and turning as he read the address over and over. He knew he shouldn’t have been nervous. MJ liked these people, so why wouldn’t he? So far, her judgement has been ten for ten, he had no reason not to trust her.

Then again, her judgement (or both of theirs) got her pregnant so… maybe not ten for ten.

He adjusted the straps of his backpack, before walking down the hall, eyes never leaving his phone.

Unable to truly process what exactly he was feeling, Peter thought that coming home, seeing May’s smiling face, and falling face-first onto the couch would alleviate some of that anxiety.

But, sadly, it did not.

The world was still spinning around him, his stomach still doing back handsprings, and now, on top of all that, he was starting to get the beginning hints of an oncoming headache, the dull pain just thrumming behind his right eye.

May emerged from her room, hands fumbling with an earring as she walked past the couch. “What are you still doing on the couch?” She asked, chuckling through her words. “Are you excited to meet Dave and Sarah?”

Peter mumbled out an incoherent yes, his face still buried in the throw pillow. 

“You don’t sound like it,” May noted, stopping in her tracks. 

“I am. I really am, May. I’m excited,” he tried his best to reassure her, though he wasn’t even sure he’d believe himself. He sat up as she joined him on the couch, a look of concern etched across her features.

She cocked her head, the corner of her lip quirking upward. “That doesn’t sound very convincing. Now, come on. What’s going on, bud? Everything okay?”

“I— I don’t know.”

And that was the truth. He really didn’t know. It wasn’t something that he felt he could just explain. And it wasn’t just one feeling; it was so much more. It was worry, it was confusion, it was doubt, it was guilt, and even something he couldn’t place. All rolled into one, messy pile. 

“Is it about the baby?”

Peter nodded, swallowing. This wasn’t really anything he’d voiced aloud. 

“What about it?”

“It’s just…” Peter paused, taking a breath. “I finally told MJ about me… being Spider-Man. I told you that already, right?”

May nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“Well, she already knew, but… that’s not the point,” he looked down at his hands. “I also told her that I was worried that… that the baby would get my powers, or something, and that the couple wouldn’t want it anymore when they found out… and…”

His aunt scooted closer, her eyes filled with worry. “What did she say?”

Peter shrugged. “She just kind of… brushed it off? Like, she didn’t ignore it or anything. But she basically said we would just have to wait and find out, and… I don’t know if I can handle not knowing, you know? How can she just be okay with that possibility?”

“I’m sorry she did that, Peter. I know it must be hard,” May said, placing a comforting hand on his arm and squeezing gently. “But you and I both know that Michelle isn’t the most upfront with her emotions. She’s probably just as scared as you are. She might’ve just said all that to seem like it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe she thought that acting strong would help  _ you.” _

Peter looked up. “You think she was just trying to make me feel better?”

“Exactly.,” she nodded. “But… It’d help if you talked to her about it again.”

“I know,” He pursed his lips, the realization still not really helping the ache that had taken over his entire body. 

“Are you going to tell Dave and Sarah about the powers?”

“Not yet,” He muttered, then held his hands up in defense at the look his aunt gave him. “Believe me, I want to. But... MJ said we should wait until we know for sure. So we don’t make them worry for no reason, I guess.”

May eyed him carefully, brow furrowing. Her lips pursed in thought, debating how to respond. “I’m not going to pretend that I approve of that decision, hiding something like that is a huge deal, and my only advice to you  _ would _ be to tell them… but... I guess I understand where Michelle is coming from.”

They were silent for a moment.

Peter cleared his throat. “But… It’s not just that. It’s— I don’t know…”

“What is it?”

He exhaled sharply, a hard lump forming in his throat. This was where the guilt came in. “She’s making all of these really important decisions without me. And I feel bad because I told her I’d support whatever she did, one-hundred percent. But…” he shook his head. “It’s hard when— when… ugh, I don’t know. I just thought we’d tackle this together. And she says I’ll love this couple but… what if I don’t?”

“Oh, hon, I know. I know this is hard. But you’ve gotta put yourself in her shoes,” May said. “It’s a scary thing. She probably wants to get all of this over and done with so she can stop worrying. Her body and mind are going through some tough things right now. And who knows, you probably  _ will _ love them. Try not to think all of these negative thoughts, okay?”

“You’re right, but… I can’t get passed it… that... that she’s not asking what  _ I _ think. I’m pretty sure she wants a closed adoption, and... and I don’t think I want that. The idea of cutting off all communication just feels… it doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, maybe for you. But what about for her?” Though her words were stern, her demeanor stayed warm and comforting. “Maybe she thinks that closing it might be better for the child in the long run? Have you considered why she might not want an open adoption?”

Peter thought. If he were being honest, he wasn’t quite sure why MJ would want something like that. He shook his head. 

“What she’s going through, what she’s about to go through, is something very, very difficult. While it might sound cold to you, it might be the best option to her. Keeping in touch… that might be too painful. Too hard. Yes, she should consider how you feel in all of this, but remember: you guys are just kids,” May almost shrugged. “You’re young. You’re not supposed to have to deal with parenthood. But it’s important for you both to talk it out. Tell her how you’re feeling, Peter,” she gave his arm another firm squeeze. “Because if you keep this bottled up, if you keep hiding this from her, things are gonna get messy. You’ll both get hurt.”

“Things are already pretty messy, I’d say,” Peter let out a short, tense laugh. “But I see what you’re saying… It’s just hard.”

“It is,” May agreed, not even trying to sugarcoat it. 

“And I just… I like the idea of the open adoption because…” Peter struggled to form words, to say how he really felt. “It’d be nice to know how the baby’s doing. To see it grow, to see it learn. I want the updates, the pictures, you know? But, I know that MJ probably doesn’t want that.”

Throughout his speech, May listened intently. She felt for him, she really did. “Well, I’m not sure what else to say that I haven’t already. Maybe we’ll get this figured out when we meet Dave and Sarah tonight. I’m sure we can come up with something that will make everyone happy. Now come on, we’re gonna be late.”

“Yeah,” Peter responded, a little unenthusiastic. 

With a sigh, May got up, patting her nephew on the leg. She started to go back into her room, before turning and looking at him. “And Peter?”

“Hmm?”

“Give them a chance, okay?” 

She didn’t have to specify who. 

Peter nodded. “I will.”

May was right. Maybe he needed to consider this from all sides. And he definitely needed to talk to MJ about how he was feeling. As unfair as it was for her to just do things on her own, it was just as unfair for him to hide these things from her. 

He had to be honest.

* * *

 

While the thought was nice, it was a little easier said than done, as Peter found it difficult to execute his new “honesty” policy with MJ as soon as he saw her at the Williamses home.

“Excited, loser?” She’d asked, gently nudging him with her elbow.

“Yeah!” He’d practically squeaked.

The six of them— seven, counting a lawyer from the agency—  all sat in the vast living room, a stack of papers placed neatly at the center of the coffee table. Peter’s leg bounced anxiously, his fingers drumming against his knees as May and Bill made small talk with the young couple.

Dave and Sarah had both greeted him with quite possibly the warmest smiles he’d ever seen, their handshakes radiating the same welcoming energy as they let him into their house. 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Peter,” Sarah beamed, sighing happily.

Peter managed a smile and a single nod. “You, too. I’ve heard a lot about you guys.”

Dave chuckled, throwing an arm around his wife. “Well, good things I hope!” 

Still, as nice as they were, and as comfy as their couch was, Peter was not so easily swayed. 

But as he and May asked questions, some he assumed MJ and her dad had asked the previous week (Why adoption? Plans for childcare? Family history? Parenting style?), he was starting to see what was so great about them. 

Dave and Sarah both seemed to really, truly, deeply care; they were so wholesome and pure, just all smiles and laughs, and May seemed to be having a blast talking to them. Dave was a cool, laid-back kind of guy, and Sarah was this caring, nurturing soul that Peter found himself really connecting with. They just wanted what was best for this child, and they were more than prepared to provide all pf that and more.

They had only a few more things to work through though.

“So,” Sarah began, clapping her hands together. “We wanted to talk to you about what kind of adoption you and Michelle would like. There is of course, the open adoption, where you’ll receive updates, however often you’d like them, and we just sort that out between all of us. There’s the semi-open, which is with the same updates and pictures, but instead everything is through the agency. And then there’s the closed, which is with no contact whatsoever. We had talked about this some before, but Michelle wanted to get your opinion on the matter before we made any decisions.”

“Uhm…” Peter looked to MJ, who hadn’t said much this entire time. She nodded, encouraging him to continue. He hadn’t really had a chance to be honest with her about this particular topic, and that made him nervous, to just… bare it all out in the open right then, no prep at all. “I— I was actually wondering if we could do an open one.”

Michelle turned her gaze to the couple. “And, I was hoping for a closed…”

It probably would have been more ideal, and significantly less awkward, for Michelle and Peter to maybe sort that out before they got there, but neither of them said anything. The room was silent. 

Dave and Sarah exchanged glances, and for a second, Peter’s stomach dropped. 

But all of his worries washed away as Sarah’s warm smile returned to her face. “We can definitely work around that. I’m sure we could arrange something that works for both of you.”

At this, both Peter and Michelle were slightly shocked. They had expected this to be more of an issue than it actually was. “Really?’ They both asked in unison.

Sarah nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! It happens more than you think.”

“So… you’re okay with that?” Peter asked, caution in his tone.

The expression on Sarah’s face was so sincere, it made him want to cry. “Of course! We would be more than happy to let you be a part of this family. Birthday parties, pictures, you name it. Anytime you would want to see them, feel free to come over!” 

“Well, not anytime. Let us know first. Make sure we’re home!” Dave chimed in with a wink.

The realization hit Peter so hard, he had to stop himself from falling back against the couch. He was, in some way or another, going to be involved in the child’s life. He’d get to see this kid grow up and thrive in a loving home with good parents. “Thank you,” was all Peter managed to get out, nearly losing it when May placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He wasn’t going to have to lose any more family. 

MJ was right. He loved Dave and Sarah.

“And Michelle,” Sarah continued. “If you ever change your mind, just let us know, okay?”

“Thanks,” MJ said, giving a closed-mouth smile.

But as wonderfully happy as Peter was in that moment, there was still the dread lingering in the back of his mind, at the bottom of his stomach. Things were great now, yes, but there was still the issue of this child potentially having powers.

Cliche as it sounded, everything could go wrong in a mere matter of a few words.

And he knew that there wasn’t really an easy way to just throw that into the conversation mix.

After a few more questions, it was time to start going over all of the paperwork. 

This was where the lawyer came in. She was an older woman, named Phyllis Dodds, with dark red hair and a neatly-pressed pantsuit. Her smile went from ear to ear, though her tone was professional as she explained each of the forms.

The first was an agreement concerning the medical and hospital costs. The Williamses graciously offered to pay for everything concerning the child and were more than happy to cover costs for appointments and ultrasounds. Since Michelle and Peter were both minors, they and their legal guardians had to sign three copies; one for the couple, and one for each teenager and their family. 

The next, also three copies, was the adoption consent form, but as explained by the lawyer, those would not be signed until after the birth of the child, just in case of a last-minute change of heart. 

For a moment, Peter thought how nerve-wracking that must be, to go through all the ins and outs of the pregnancy only to have to wait for someone’s signature to find out if you really were going to be parents.

Finally, came the non-disclosure agreement that also had some medical form tie-ins. As per the agency, all involved had to sign this form in case one party became aware of private information regarding the other. This was done to ensure that all parties involved had a right to their privacy. At this, Peter’s eyes immediately flew to Michelle, meeting hers.

Upon reading the document, they found that it was fairly simple, consisting of legal jargon that basically, in laymen’s terms, just said, “snitches get stitches.” 

It was on the second page, third paragraph in that it became more complicated. 

_ “... Both parties and the Representatives of said parties agree to retain the Confidential Information regarding Medical history (genetic disorders, diseases, enhancements such as the x-gene, etc.) in strict confidence, and under no circumstances should reveal any information learned during and after the time of the Adoption…” _

Before either of them could say anything, Michelle’s father spoke, his expression contorted into one of confused concern. “What’s this about… the x-gene in here?”

Sarah and Dave glanced toward one another, the former shifting in her seat slightly. She looked down, folding her hands together, letting out a slow breath. 

Her husband placed a gentle hand on her arm. 

Phyllis interjected before anything else could be said. “Sarah, you don’t have to—”

“No, it’s fine,” Sarah said, looking up finally, a faint smile on her lips. “They should know. You’re having them sign this anyway.” She took another deep breath before continuing. “There’s a member of my family that is a carrier of the x-gene. While that doesn’t directly affect my husband and I, we felt that it was important enough to include. Some people might not be comfortable around something like that. It’s also just a way to protect the identity of that relative, in that event that they’re introduced.” 

Bill nodded, eyes going back to the form in front of him. 

“And this goes both ways,” the lawyer added. “Should there be any information regarding that nature on your side, Mr. and Mrs. Williams will give the same promise of confidentiality.”

This time, Peter dared a glance at May, her expression unreadable. His eyes then drifted to Michelle, who seemed just as shocked as he was.

At everyone’s silence, Sarah continued speaking, seeming to have become more nervous. “If that is an issue, we understand completely.”

Bill glanced to May, who was still poring over every word on the page. She looked up, eyes meeting the younger woman’s hopeful gaze. “I think that would be up to Peter and Michelle, don’t you think, Bill?”

Michelle’s father sat for a moment, pondering over the information he’d just learned. Of course, he didn’t know that Peter was secretly the red and blue spandex-wearing vigilante, so that may not have mattered to him at that point in time. He placed the form on the coffee table, folding his arms across his chest. “As long as the kid is safe and happy, then it’s fine by me.”

At that, Sarah and Dave turned to the two teenagers. 

Peter looked to Michelle, whose expression seemed to say, _ “See? I told you everything was going to be okay.” _

And maybe she was right all along. Everything was falling so neatly into place. They were going to both get what they wanted out of the adoption, and the child was going to go to a home that had experience with enhanced individuals. Suddenly, all the fears and stress that Peter had were lifted off of his shoulders. 

“Doesn’t bother me,” Michelle said, not looking away from Peter.

For the first time that night, Peter grinned from ear to ear, a genuine smile, eyes never straying form hers. “Me, neither.”

The way Dave and Sarah’s faces lit up, the way Sarah gasped happily, her hands coming up to cover her mouth, made all of the anxious feelings about this situation worth it. 

After the initial excitement that came from the now adoptive parents, and hugs all around the room, Phyllis walked them through signing all of the paperwork. The sound of pens on paper accompanied the occasional sniffle coming from Sarah. 

As they finished, Phyllis made sure to answer any other questions they had, giving them her office number and hours in case there was anything they needed cleared up later. 

Standing at the front door, Michelle and Peter promised to keep the parents updated as much as possible, appointments and developments and what not. 

Sarah liked that. 

Just as they were about to leave, Sarah stopped them, visibly nervous. “So, you really think you’re going to do this?” 

Michelle exchanged a glance with her father, Peter, and May before giving a crooked smile. “Yeah. Of course. You guys are cool. We like you.”

Sarah smiled again, but still seemed worried. “So, how sure? Percentage-wise? Like eighty percent? Ninety?”

Again, if it weren’t so serious, Michelle would have thought her manic demeanor was a little funny. “I’d say about a hundred and four percent.”

At her response, Sarah gasped happily. “Really?”

“Really.”

Just as it had been after the first interview, Dave wrapped a loving arm around his wife, pulling her into an embrace as she buried her face in his neck. 

Sarah looked back to them, eyes brimming with elated, sparkling tears. “Thank you. What you’re doing… Is such a selfless thing. Thank you, both.”

Seeing how happy they were, seeing how happy he and MJ had just made them, made Peter’s heart swell with such warmth and emotion. 

He’d say he was about a hundred and five percent sure.

The cool autumn air greeted them as they stepped out of the house, all of them turning to wave at the couple. 

“Told you you’d like them,” MJ said, smirking to herself.

Walking side by side to their respective cars, May and Bill ahead of them, Peter stopped, turning to face his friend fully. “You did. You were right.”

“Duh.”

He chuckled lightly at her response, looking at the ground briefly. “But seriously, I really did like them.”

“I knew you would,” she said, then shrugged. “I think that’s why I picked them.”

At this, Peter looked up at her, brows furrowed together, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “What? Really?”

Again, she shrugged, claiming an air of nonchalance. “I mean, yeah. Obviously, I liked them, but… I just kinda knew that you’d love them, I guess. They seemed like good people. And you’re a good person… so you probably gravitate to that… I don’t know...”

He honestly didn’t think he could take any more heartwarming things tonight. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to reach out for her, wrap her in his arms, and give her the biggest hug of her damn life.

But he settled for a gentle nod. 

“Uh, wow, thanks,” he breathed out, the air in his lungs seeming to disappear entirely. 

The corner of her lip twitched upward. “No problem.”

* * *

 

When Peter got home that night, he collapsed face-first into his bed, not even bothering to change into pajamas as he buried himself under the covers. 

He wasn’t sure what really brought this up, but he was hit with the sudden realization that there was still one other person he had yet to tell about this whole thing.

_ Mr. Stark. _

After what had happened last year with Cap and Mr. Stark, Avengers Compound was almost eerily empty. It was strange, all that space and only about three, sometimes four, even five, souls occupying it. 

Sometimes, when Peter didn’t have a lot of school work, when he had more free time than usual, he’d go Upstate, maybe train a little, maybe just talk with Mr. Stark about his life. Recently, the older man’s been trusting him more with… all this superhero stuff, so he’s reined the helicopter parent thing back a few notches, now really only tracking Peter’s suit just in case. 

Tony also made it to where Peter didn’t have to go through Happy to get to him.

It was nice, being trusted, Peter mused. It made him feel like a grown-up.

Almost like a real Avenger.

(Even if he wasn’t one. Yet.)

But backing off a bit meant that Tony was significantly less aware of Peter’s social and school life. 

Which also meant that Tony didn’t know about a little thing called “Peter got his best friend MJ pregnant and now they’re putting the baby up for adoption and also that baby may or may not have spider powers.”

Yeah, Peter had maybe possibly forgotten to mention any of that in the past few weeks.

It’s not his fault though. He was just waiting to be able to see Mr. Stark in person, who was currently out of the country doing some super-top-secret Avengers stuff, so he was really, really busy, and this hardly seemed like the information that was appropriate to give over the phone or text. 

It absolutely had to be done in person.

That was it.

Not that he was afraid.

No, not at all.

Also, there was MJ’s thing about how they wouldn’t tell people unless they asked. And so far, Mr. Stark hadn’t asked.

At this point, Peter was just making up excuses for himself, the real reason he hadn’t told Mr. Stark being that he was utterly terrified of what his mentor’s reaction would be. He knew he had to tell him, and now, after everything was set up with the adoptive parents… well, now seemed as good a time as any. 

He just couldn’t bring himself to actually do it. 

The faint buzzing of his phone nearly startled him off of the bed, putting him in a brief state of confusion as he glanced at the caller ID, brows pinched together.

_ Speak of the devil. _

Tony Stark’s picture stared right back at him, cool, warm-tinted sunglasses and all. 

With a short, clipped exhale, Peter answered, bringing the phone to his ear. “Hey, Mr. Stark.”

_ “Kid!” _ Tony’s confident voice came through the other end, the smile in his tone audible.  _ “Got a question for you: There’s a couple of press-conferences coming up in a few weeks— just some Avengers stuff, nothing you can’t handle. It’s on October 18th. You think you can come?” _

Peter inwardly cursed. Next Thursday was supposed to be another one of MJ’s appointments— ultrasound, he thought, and he didn’t really want to miss it. “Ah, I’m sorry, I’ve got a thing— an appointment thing with MJ that day…” 

God why couldn’t he just spit it out, already? 

He could practically hear the bewildered expression on Tony’s face. _ “What like a date?” _

Peter stammered, his heart rate kicking up like a snare drum. “Uh— No. No, sir, nothing like that.”

_ “Well, then, if it’s not a date, then it must not be that important,” _ his mentor mused.  _ “Now… Sorry, but which one is MJ, again? Aloof? Kinda quiet? Likes reading? Uh… ‘woke’?” _

He cringed at the attempted use of slang by a middle aged man, but he still smiled at the description of his best friend. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

_ “Well, what kind of appointment does she have that you have to go with her?” _

Peter chewed at his bottom lip, his hand not holding the phone clenched, knuckles turning white at the pressure. He sighed shakily, silently hoping that the other man hadn’t heard. “Uh— Well… I’ve— I’ve been meaning to tell you this… For a while actually. Uhm—… Michelle… MJ— she’s…” He felt like he might just puke everywhere, trying to force the next words out, his stomach in knots. “She’s… pregnant.”

“Oh,” Tony replied quietly. “That’s— I’m sorry to hear that. It’s sad, the statistic. It’s very common for girls— teens— her age. But I’m sure kid’s got a great support system. She’s tough, she’ll get through this. She’s got her parents, I’m assuming May, Ned and… well, you of course. A good friend willing to go to an appointment with her even when it doesn’t really have anything to do with you—”  He paused on the other line, trying to find the words. “Wait a minute, are you the father?”

Peter wasn’t surprised at all at how little time it had taken before he’d connected the dots; he was Tony freakin’ Stark after all, but that didn’t stop the way his heart fell into his stomach at the question. “Yeah,” he answered, his voice small. 

There was silence on the other end for a while, and for a moment, Peter was convinced the call had been dropped from bad service. “Mr. Stark? Are you still there?”

_ “Yes,” _ he responded, tone even and cool, before sighing.  _ “So what’s the game plan? I know this may not be something you wanna hear, but it— and by ‘it’ I do mean, ‘abortion,’— might be the best option. I’ve got a great doctor here at the compound. We can get Michelle an appointment, and Dr. Cho can take care of everything.” _

“Uh, no thanks, Mr. Stark,” Peter stumbled over his words, eyes cast down to his hands. “We already decided what we’re doing.”

At this, Tony’s even tone seemed to shift into one of more dissonance.  _ “You’re not keeping it are you? Listen, I know this seems like something you can handle, but it’s not. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, and you’re just gonna ruin it with—” _

Not wanting to hear the rest of that rant by any means, Peter interjected quickly. “We’re giving it up for adoption.”

Again, Tony was quiet for a moment, seeming to take it all in. When he spoke, the frustration was still evident in his voice.  _ “Kid, you do realize that this child might not be exactly normal, right?” _

His mouth set into a thin line, his teeth now biting the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, we’ve thought about that.”

_ “Alright. Well, bring Michelle down to the compound, we’ll run some tests, and problem solved. We’ll figure this out.” _

As much as Peter wanted to say yes, to take MJ Upstate, and finally get to the bottom of this, he knew that he couldn’t just… volunteer her for something like that. Especially when those tests may or may not be slightly invasive. “Uhm—.... With all due respect, Mr. Stark, and believe me, I want to take you up on that offer, I really do… but I think that’s up to MJ. And… not… you…” His voice trailed off toward the end, afraid of what his mentor would say.

He could hear Tony’s sharp exhale, the man clearly aggravated.

“But!” Peter quickly added, hoping to quell his nerves. “I will ask her. I promise. And— And if things get weird, or if she or I start to notice things, we’ll let you know. We’ll call.”

_ “Alright,” _ Mr. Stark replied shortly, though even the simplest person could tell that things were not entirely… alright.  _ “I’ll be here. And I’ll be checking up on you.” _

“Yeah, of course.”

_ “So, you guys found a couple?” _ Tony asked, (kind of) changing the subject. 

Peter sat back against the bed, his free hand toying with the laces of his hoodie. “Yeah. I met them tonight.” He was quiet again, the reality of everything still settling in. It was weird, saying it all out loud. 

_ “And?” _

“I think we made the right choice.”

_ “I hope so,” _ Tony nearly scoffed, the tense edge to his tone not leaving.  _ “I’ll have to vet them for you, extensive background checks, etc., just to be sure—” _

“No, Mr. Stark,” Peter immediately cut him off, but flinched sheepishly when he realized that he’d just interrupted him for the second time this entire call. “I mean, no thank you. You don’t need to do that. I think the agency had all that done before.”

_ “No, no, let me finish,” _ he reprimanded. _ “I want to help you. And if making sure you’re not getting conned out of a potentially super-baby by two strangers, then that’s what I’m gonna do. You guys are still just kids, and I’m just looking out for you. Someone’s gotta watch your six.” _

Lips pressed into a tight line, Peter nodded, though he knew that Tony couldn’t really see that as confirmation. It was more for himself. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

After that was behind them, and after Peter gave him the basic information he needed, things were slightly less tense. Though, he was a little nervous that something could come from the new background check. After all, Tony Stark was… well, Tony Stark. If anyone could find more dirt on someone, he could probably find the person to do it.

Still, even with all of the excitement today, Peter was for once able to feel a sense of calm wash over him. 

Everything was going to be okay.

* * *

 

As it turned out, Peter hadn’t actually kept his promise in asking Michelle to “get tested,” afraid that bringing the subject up would only make things worse. Plus, things were pretty good. He wasn’t about to go and ruin it, was he?

No, of course not.

They had time.

The next month went by in what was lovingly referred to as the “Honeymoon Phase” of pregnancy. 

Michelle’s symptoms were no longer the violent morning sickness that was basically the entire first trimester. But while they were all in all a bit less intense as a whole, they were still a bit of a nuisance.

As the weeks passed, Michelle got even bigger than she was. Denim had been out of the picture for a while now, and she was almost exclusively wearing giant sweaters and t-shirts now. Aunt May and Linda had been gracious enough to take her shopping for those jeans with the elastic in the waistband. She figured this was so she could maintain some sense of actual personhood and not lowly hermit emerging from its cave. 

So, that was nice. 

And along with the new wardrobe came the prenatal yoga classes. Linda said it would be a good way to lessen the stress, mentally and physically, that came with pregnancy. It’s also supposed to make labor easier or something. Michelle didn’t really question it.

The next ultrasound came and went, nothing super exciting. Oh, except Linda cried seeing the tiny little baby feet, which thoroughly confused MJ; they were cute but they didn’t warrant actual tears. 

Peter came to this one, an absolute nervous wreck. He just kept laughing at nothing, playing with his hands, fidgeting his legs anytime he sat. He looked like he was gonna pass out when he heard the heartbeat, which didn’t faze Michelle at all, it was nothing new. 

In all honesty, Michelle was getting used to this. 

It was week sixteen that things started to really change. 

Flash was hosting his yearly Halloween bash at his place, and had (albeit begrudgingly) invited everyone on the decathlon team. Michelle didn’t even like parties all that much, but she liked going with Ned and Peter to observe all the shit that went down. People-watching was one of their favorite holiday traditions. 

When she asked, or rather told, her parents about going, they had two main issues. One, being that it was a school night, and two, teen parties were no places for someone in her condition.

Michelle had scoffed at this. “I’m already pregnant. What other shenanigans can I get myself into?” She had asked, her tone tinted in amusement. 

The answer was still, “no.”

Which was a bummer. She had a really funny costume in mind. 

But, as always, Peter and Ned were more than willing to change their plans for her, even when she argued against it. Turns out, they would much rather hang out with her grumpy, pregnant ass than go to a house party.

It was kind of sweet, really.

So, that’s how she ended up at Peter’s door, Halloween night. They’d insisted they still wear their costumes, even if they weren’t actually going anywhere. It was good for the spirit, they had said. 

The door opened, revealing Peter’s smiling face, adorned in his red and blue suit sans mask. She quirked a brow at him, questioning. 

“What? It makes it easier if I have to go help someone… or something…” Peter defended, placing a hand on his hip. He looked her up and down— the action causing an unwelcome heat to swarm her body. “What are you supposed to be?” He asked skeptically.

She glanced down; white t-shirt and black galaxy leggings. “I’m the moon,” she deadpanned, gesturing to her stomach. “Duh.”

“Very funny.”

“Shut up. Are you gonna let me in or not?”

Wordlessly, Peter stepped aside. Though he tried to maintain an impassive expression, he couldn’t hide the amused smirk that started to grow. 

“The moon! Nice,” Ned greeted her with a nod of approval, grinning as she plopped down on the couch next to him. 

“See? At least Leeds appreciates good humor,” MJ said, grabbing a handful of sweets.

Peter shook his head, biting back a laugh as he joined them on the couch. 

The evening was spent with scary movies and way too much candy— Michelle knew that Linda would not approve of either one “in her condition.” But, hey, it was Halloween. She had to get spooky and eat her weight in sugar. It was tradition. 

Plus, she was technically eating for two. The baby needed candy almost as much as she did, so she wasn’t about to skimp out on starbursts and hershey’s kisses.

They didn’t even really watch any of the movies, all three of them just providing silly— borderline stupid— commentary on each one. At some point, they made a game out of seeing how many pieces of popcorn Peter could catch at once with the help of his “spidey-sense.”

(The answer was eight, the rest just ended up on the floor or in the couch cushions.)

At about ten o’clock, Michelle noticed the nerds getting tired This wasn’t supposed to be a sleepover, but Ned had already begun to doze off, a light snore coming from his lips as he rested his head against the throw pillow. Peter didn’t look much better, though he seemed like he was at least trying to stay awake. She herself had also started to feel the comforting pull of sleep, her eyelids drooping, her thoughts becoming foggy and incoherent. 

She was startled, however, by the weirdest sensation she had ever felt in her entire life; it was like a bubble formed in her stomach and rose up, popping once it reached the top. 

_ What the hell? _

She must have made some noise, because in a second, Peter was at her side, wide awake, brows pinched in concern, hand resting gently on her forearm. “MJ! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, slightly confused; she wasn’t in any pain… just perplexed, caught off guard. Again, the sensation started, this time, fluttering more in the pit of her stomach. “I think it’s just gas or something, I’ve been having some weird indigestion lately, or… or—”

It clicked with the third time. 

“Or what?” Peter asked, eyes wide.

Michelle looked down at her stomach, resting a hand against it, hoping to feel something on the outside. “I think…. I think it’s moving?” 

If at all possible, Peter’s eyes widened even more, his jaw slightly dropping. “Whoa... “ He breathed, his gaze moving to her midsection. 

“I think it liked the candy,” Michelle muse. 

He only nodded, too at a loss for words to even come up with a coherent set of words. 

A different feeling, something that she guessed was an elbow, or maybe a leg— she didn’t know, and it didn’t matter— poked her from the inside. 

It was so damn weird. But also… really cool.

It wasn’t by any means comfortable, and she was sure that anyone would be able to see that in the facial expressions she was currently pulling. It was certainly something she’d have to get used to. 

Finally, Peter looked up at her, mostly responding to the way she’d nearly jumped at the last movement. “It doesn’t… hurt, does it?” His tone cautious and worried.

She quickly wrote that off. “Not even a little bit. It just feels really freakin’ weird.”

“Oh,” his voice still small and a little breathy. “Cool.”

The way his eyes weren’t faltering away from hers, the way the warmth and excitement radiated from his smile… Michelle had to look away. Peter Parker was too damn cute for his, or her, own good, damn it. 

“Or it could just be gas.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him bite back an amused smile, glancing down briefly at his hand on her arm. He pulled back immediately upon realizing it was still there, apologizing sheepishly before looking back up at her. 

He was so close, she could smell the jolly ranchers he’d eaten earlier still on his breath, fruity and tangy and in a really weird way… a little alluring. Must be the hormones. Once again, his gentle gaze, his cute little grin, stirred up something in her, her heart rate increasing more and more with each second that he didn’t look away. 

The fluttering-poking-bubble returned, this time much more insistent, it’s movements stronger than at first. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to push through just how strange this all felt. She stayed like this for a moment, trying to slow her heart, and trying to will the baby to stop moving for like two seconds. 

When she opened her eyes again, Peter was still right beside her, worried, and the teensiest bit amused, smile on his face. “You good?”

Looking right back at him, meeting his kind eyes, she nodded, the faintest of smiles cracking across her features as a feeling of warmth spread over her.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!! I hope you liked it!! Let me know what ya think, I love feedback!! <3 Also, feel free to follow my tumblr @spiderman-homecomeme. I post about writing and I also post short little writing prompts that people send me!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!! thanks for being so patient with me on these updates! And a huge thank you to every single one of you for reading, comment, and giving kudos! It makes me so happy to see you guys responding to this fic! 
> 
> Anyway, here is the next chapter!!

_ Michelle doesn’t know why everyone and their mother said that childbirth was hard.  _

_ She doesn’t even really remember it; one minute she’s in the birthing suite, legs hoisted up in those weird stirrup things, the next, she’s being handed the gift of screaming, squirming, pooping life.  _

_ She’s not sure if she even asked to see the baby; from the beginning, she’d always planned to just hand off that hot potato, but now… now that she’s holding it in her arms, now that she’s seeing it’s scrunched up face, all covered in god knows what… _

_ Yeah, she still kind of wished they hadn’t have handed the poor thing to her.  _

_ But she’s got to admit it’s kind of cute in a gross way.  _

_ A gurgling cry comes from the bundle in her arms, high pitched voice warbling as it cries for its mother. Michelle looks to the others in the room; her step-mom, her father, May, and Peter, all giving her the same reassuring look.  _

_ This was okay. _

_ This was normal. _

_ Babies cry. _

_ It’s when the tiny thing doesn’t stop crying that she starts to panic. It just won’t stop, even as Michelle holds it close, patting its back gently.  _

_ Where were Sarah and Dave? And why wasn’t anyone helping?  _

_ She could hear her heartbeat thumping in her ears, almost as loud as the wailing that was coming from her child, screams ending in low trills. Her hands shook as she held the baby closer to her chest, her lips pressing against the top of it’s head as she gently shushed, hoping those maternal hormones would kick in at any moment.  _

_ But nothing helped. Still, the crying continued.  _

_ Once again, she tries looking to her friends and family for any assistance, but startles when she sees that she is alone. Her eyes frantically scan the room, her grip unconsciously tightening around her child. White hot tears start to burn her eyes, her vision clouding as she feels her chest tighten, breathing becoming ragged.  _

_ Suddenly, the crying stops. Michelle looks down at the bundle in her arms, but there’s nothing there, only an empty blanket; she moves the fabric, a scream catching in her throat as her arm is covered with spiders, thousands of them scattering across her skin. _

With a gasp, Michelle bolts upright, blanket haphazardly tangled in her long limbs, sheets sticking to her clammy skin. Her heart is hammering in her chest as she tries to slow her breathing. 

The prickling feeling of spiders crawling up and down her arms is still there; gingerly, she looks down, relief flooding her as she comes back to reality.

It wasn’t real. 

Almost unconsciously, she rests a hand on her swollen belly, the nightmare causing a stirring in the pit of her stomach. She closes her eyes, focusing on the fluttering feeling of kicks and twists, something she’s still not quite used to, breathing in and out. 

It takes more than a moment of deep meditation, but eventually, her heart rate and the movement in her abdomen slows. 

When she opens her eyes again, and her vision adjusts to the darkness, a heavy, weighted sigh escapes her. 

The clock on her bedside table reads 4:03 AM, and she collapses back into her pillow, groaning in frustration. For a moment, she considers texting her group chat with Peter and Ned, but ultimately decides against it, not really knowing what she’d even say. 

After all, it was just a dream.

* * *

 

It’s been about two-and-a-half weeks since that night, and Michelle hasn’t told anyone; no mention of it. Nothing. 

Not Peter.

Not her parents.

Not even her doctor.

It was a dream, and that’s all she figured it was; she thought it best to just leave it be, let it simmer on the backburner for a while. 

Dreams never actually meant anything. They’re just electrical brain impulses that pull thoughts and feelings from memories, stories our heads make up to try and make sense of the world around us. So, it was just her brain being worried about the whole possible-superpowers thing, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. 

And it wasn’t like talking about it with someone was actually going to help or anything. 

Plus, she googled it, and weird dreams are actually really common during pregnancy. It was perfectly normal. 

So she stayed quiet about the nightmare, electing to ignore it. Yeah, it still kind of bothered her, but that was understandable. Any normal person would be at least a little bit weirded out by a dream where a live baby turns into a cloud of tiny spiders. 

But again, it was a dream, and that’s all it was. 

Shoving it out of her mind, locking the door, and throwing the key away wasn’t the only method of dealing with it, but it was the easiest.

There was no mention of the nightmare, even when her doctor asked about any new developments as she put the cold jelly on Michelle’s baby bump, lathering it on in preparation for another ultrasound. Linda was there, holding her step-daughter’s hand as they watched the technician move the wand across her belly. 

Peter and May had come as well, both of them maintaining a reasonable distance from the exam bed, but close enough so that could still see the images on the monitor. 

She hadn’t expected this appointment to be any different from her other ones. After all, she’d seen the screen before when it showed parts of the baby, but it’s never really looked like anything close to human, more resembling the likeness of a frog-human-hybrid thing.

That day though, she finally saw what all the fuss was about. 

The tiny little feet, the big head, the small body, the arms, the hands. It was all there. It was starting to look like an actual baby.

Linda had cried, hastily wiping the tears from her eyes as her daughter silently judged her. “What? I’m not made of stone,” she’d said, chuckling. 

Michelle only smirked, ready to throw some kind of teasing comment, but ultimately coming up empty. It was hard to make fun of her for something like this. 

May was in the same boat as Linda, though maybe not as weepy, but certainly as enchanted. She oo’d and aw’d as the little tiny feet popped up on the screen, sighing when the faintest outline of a head started to show. 

Hearing the heartbeat was what did everyone in, though.

When Michelle looked at Peter, he had this same expression he’d adopted as of late anytime anything about the baby was brought up; one where he looks kind of like an emotional deer-caught-in-headlights, with a pinch of quiet excitement.  

She remembers him saying, voice cracking slightly, that it was just “really cool.”

And he was right. It was cool. 

They left it at that. 

After that appointment, she’d brought the sonogram to Dave and Sarah’s house, after May had graciously offered to drive her. The couple lit up immediately upon seeing the pictures, nearly shaking in excitement as they held them in their hands. 

They thanked her profusely for coming by and for thinking of them. 

Obviously, she let them keep the pictures. 

She didn’t have a real use for them anyway.

Plus, she had bigger and better things to focus on.

Like how weird it felt to have something growing literally inside of her. 

And she did that, even as she tuned out the show currently playing on the TV, only half-listening to Ned and Peter’s conversation. They had some sort of AcaDec team bonding session going on today at Ned’s place, and unsurprisingly, they were the first ones there. 

Instead of interacting with her two friends, her attention was on her bump (her “lovely baby lump,”  à la Fergie,  as she liked to call it), shirt riding up a bit, exposing the stretched skin. She mindlessly traced circles there, marvelling at just how surreal all of this was. 

She sat like that for a while, running her fingers experimentally over her stomach, back and forth. She’d apply slight pressure here and there, not entirely sure what she was even doing, mostly doing it out of sheer boredom.

Every so often, she’d feel the kid move, doing somersaults in there or some shit. Sometimes, it’d move to where it was pushing right against her bladder, and she’d have to readjust so that she wouldn’t pee all over the Leeds’ couch (she figured they wouldn’t be too happy about that).

When her finger pokes a particular spot though, she’s startled when something pokes back. There’s a small movement, on the other side of her skin; a foot, a hand, an elbow.

Okay, she doesn’t know what it is, but she knows it’s definitely something. 

She does it again, poking a bit more gently, resting her finger in the same spot. 

And again, it pushes back, the tiny outline of a tiny little limb appearing for a brief moment. 

It’s… weird. 

But also amazing.

She’s felt the baby kick before, obviously. Kid’s been doing it for a couple of weeks now. But up until now, she’s never seen it actually happen. Now that it’s visible, now that it’s right there in front of her, it’s so much more real than it ever has been. 

“Woah…” She mutters, almost inaudibly.

Though, Peter with his super-enhanced hearing, doesn’t miss it. He immediately looks to her, his eyes wide in question. “What?” 

She’s not really sure how she feels about all this. It’s cool, it really is, and she’s lowkey a little impressed, but… there’s a weird feeling in her chest, and her throat tightens. She doesn’t like it.

And obviously, she’s not going to show that to the two losers, so she gives a small, half-grin instead, gesturing to her bump. “Guys, check this out!”

Both Ned and Peter flock to her, eager to see what she’s talking about. 

She shows them the little party-trick, poking her belly in the same spot, watching as their faces scrunch in deep concentration, holding their breath in anticipation.

Right on cue, the little hand, foot, elbow, whatever it is, pokes back, moving across the skin. 

“Woah…” They echo her same words from earlier, jaws dropping slightly as their wide eyes fixate on the movement. 

“Sick,” Ned whispers as if speaking any louder would scare the baby into stillness. 

MJ looks briefly to Peter, who seems to be frozen in place, a bit farther from her than necessary, his expression a mixture of awe and a hint of unease. “Yeah,” he mutters under his breath.

Maybe it isn’t the smartest idea to ask what she does next, they might think it’s a little too weird, or something, but she does anyway. “Do you guys wanna feel it?” For once, she doesn’t seem as confident as she normally does, her tone having a hint of a shy edge to it. 

Ned answers first. “Um, yes!” 

“Okay, cool, c’mere,” she grabs his hand, putting it right smack dab in the middle of her stomach. She pushes down experimentally, scoffing at the way Ned mumbles how weird it feels, clearing his throat in an attempt to hide the squeamish giggle that escapes him when the little hand high fives him through her shirt.

He retracts his hand after, jaw dropped and eyes wide in wonder and disbelief. “That’s so weird!!”

When she makes eye contact with Peter, her head spins and her heart flips. He looks like he might be sick. “You don’t have to, if you don’t—”

His face is pale and he swallows. “No, I do,” He says, cutting her off, pitch in its high, nervous state. 

It’s almost as if they’re the only two people in the room now (poor Ned) as Peter moves to her. Wordlessly, she reaches for his hand, gently placing it where Ned’s had been moments before, though this time, she has to ignore the new way her skin heats, to steady her breath and heart, at the touch. 

Peter holds his breath as he feels the bump, keeping his hand utterly still as he waits. 

Nothing happens. 

It’s not really the baby’s fault that it’s not kicking anymore; could be stage fright or something, but that doesn’t make MJ any less disappointed. Still, she’s determined. “Hold on…” She mutters, brow scrunched up in concentration, taking Peter’s hand in hers and moving it across her belly, gently pressing here and there in order to coax the kid out of hiding. 

“It’s okay—” Peter starts, but a wide grin breaks across his features, the puff of air escaping his lips, as he feels the tiniest foot kick back at the pressure of his hand. 

Michelle tries her best to fight the smile that’s pulling at the corner of her mouth. 

She doesn’t do very well.

“Woah…” is all anyone can really say at this point.

Having Peter this close to her, she can see every detail in his enamored expression, and it pulls at her heartstrings, playing Mendelssohn's goddamn Violin Concerto in E minor on them; all he has to do is look back up at her, excited twinkle in his eye, and her beats-per-minute hits an all new high. 

Another series of insistent kicks push against Peter’s hand, and his smile grows even wider. He snorts when a particularly hard nudge elicits a few curse words in response from Michelle. She shoots him a warning glare, but she can’t stay annoyed. Her eyes soften immediately upon meeting his again.

“Um, hey guys, still here,” Ned clears his throat, waving his arm dramatically. 

At that moment, Michelle wants to kill him.

But she doesn’t get the chance, the buzzing of Leeds’ phone giving the boy an out. “Ooh, shit, Betty’s here. I uh— gotta go let her in. The buzzers not working you know… so— yeah.” And without another word, he bolts out the front door, neither one entirely sure if it’s out of fear of Michelle or excitement to see Betty.

It’s then that Peter realizes that his hand is still resting on top of MJ’s stomach, and he quickly yanks it away as if he’d just touched a hot stove, muttering an apology, tips of his ears turning a cute shade of pink. 

They sit in silence as they wait for Ned and the others to come back up, neither one able to find enough sense to actually speak. Thankfully, they aren’t left alone too long, barely even five minutes as Ned, Betty, and the others who’d conveniently showed up just as Ned had gotten to the first floor, were back. 

Only a small fraction of the team was actually there, the main ones skipping out being Sally, who had a family thing, and Flash, who frankly, didn’t give any real reason besides not wanting to come. 

Michelle figured he still needed some time after she’d ripped him to shreds a few weeks ago. 

_ Smart. _

Everyone, meaning only about eight people total, made themselves comfortable, all gathered in the living room, sitting in some form of a circle on the floor. The sound of random chattering of four different conversations and friendly laughter filled the small apartment, pausing only momentarily as Ned set up the game of Quiplash on the television. 

They played a few rounds, Michelle actually being pretty impressed with how funny her teammates were. Clearly, she’d underestimated them, nearly dying at Cindy’s answer to “After a close race, the newly elected Governor of Texas is  _ blank, _ ” being, “some old white guy.”

Of course, there could only be one winner, and it was obviously MJ, and they’d all known that, throwing their phones down in frustration at her name plastered on the screen.

There was no competition.

After more rounds, and after everyone finally got tired of MJ winning, they feasted on Pizza, courtesy of Ned’s parents.

They’d tried a bit of Trivia Murder Party, but given that they were a group of teens full of random facts, it got a little competitive.

So they turned that off after one round.

Eventually the eight people turned into just five, Cindy, having to leave for some family thing, Abe, having mountains of homework, and Charles, having work. 

While it didn’t seem like that significant of a difference, losing three people surprisingly made for a much more intimate vibe, especially since Ned seemed really preoccupied with making heart-eyes at Betty the entire time. Essentially, it was just Peter, MJ, and Gwen at this point. 

MJ tried to stay in the background of the conversation, quietly sitting on the outside of the circle in order to avoid any more interaction (give her a break, she’d just spent about two hours actively socializing, ok?)

But, the entire world seemed to be conspiring against her.

Gwen Stacy was the leader of all that, and in that moment, Michelle hated her for it.

Don’t get her wrong, Gwen was a nice girl; super sweet, not a mean bone in her body. She was smart, also actually really cool any other time, but unfortunately, with her intelligence came a ridiculous amount of curiosity, an overwhelming desire to learn anything and everything she could. 

“What does it feel like?” Gwen asked, leaning forward slightly, eyes shining with interest, referring to the big baby bump in the room.

Michelle glanced around the room, becoming uncomfortably warm at all the attention. It wasn’t like it was that outlandish of a question; had Michelle not been the one going through it, she’d probably want to know, too. “Uh… kinda weird, I guess.”

The way her peers’ gazes held her own told her to elaborate. 

“Right now, it just kind of feels like some really intense gas,” she adds, huffing in nervous amusement, using her go-to descriptor. 

They all seem to get a kick out of that, judging from the mixed chorus of chuckles that comes from them at her response. 

But still, Gwen wants to know even more. “So you can actually feel it moving?”

MJ nods.

She doesn’t know why everyone gets so impressed with how weird that idea is. 

“Do you ever feel like it’s going to fall out?” Gwen suddenly asks, as if the question is out of her control.

Michelle isn’t sure if it’s genuine or not, but it makes her and everyone else laugh in grossed out amusement. 

“Oh, sorry, that was weird,” the blonde girl says bashfully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Umm… No?” Michelle’s brow furrows in confusion, her head tilting to the right. “I’m pretty sure it’s secure in there. For another few months at least.”

Gwen seems satisfied with that answer, but clearly, judging from the way she sits forward on the floor, and the way her eyes twinkle, she’s not done. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

Really starting to feel like she’s being interviewed more than partaking in a normal conversation, Michelle stiffens slightly. “Nope,” she shakes her head. Though she is caught off guard from getting the third-degree, oddly enough, she finds that she’s not all that annoyed with Gwen. 

“Oh, it’s definitely a boy,” Ned cuts in, now invested, earning a shocked and bewildered stare from both MJ and Peter. 

“Um… How are you so sure?” Peter laughs in amused exasperation. 

Ned shrugs. “I dunno. I just… it’s a feeling.” He says it with such confidence, that it’s almost impossible not to agree. 

Then again, Michelle (and Peter) knows that gut feelings regarding the gender of an unborn child aren’t the most reliable. 

“I heard that it totally depends on where you carry your bump,” Betty interjects. “Like, if it’s low on your body, then it’s a boy, if it’s high, it’s a girl.” 

Internet theories and old-wives tales are also on that list of unreliable methods. 

Gwen nods enthusiastically. “Oh, I heard that too! I also heard that if you’re craving ice cream all day, everyday, then it’s probably a girl.”

“Well, if that’s true, then I must be having a girl!” Peter quips, earning a burst of laughter from the circle. 

Ned nearly falls over, an embarrassingly loud snort escaping him at the (arguably bad) joke, Betty grabbing onto his forearm to hold herself up.

Gwen places a hand on her heart, the other she uses to playfully push Peter’s arm as she tries to control her giggles, the touch lingering for a split-second. 

The only person not overcome with hilarity is Michelle, who frankly, though she’d huffed in amusement at first, didn’t think it was all that funny. 

Peter makes eye contact with her, a huge grin plastered on his face as he struggles to compose himself, and she doesn’t offer even a single smirk, her deadpan expression, the quirk of a brow, showing just how unimpressed she was. 

Maybe on another day, she’d be hit with the same fit of giggles, but for some reason, it just wasn’t in her. She’s more annoyed than anything. 

Once everyone collectively gets their shit together— which takes a little too long, in Michelle’s opinion; again, it wasn’t  _ that  _ funny— the conversation picks back up right where they left off. Somehow, and really, she isn’t sure how it happened, having mistakenly zoned out for a minute or two, they get on the topic of names.

More specifically, for babies. 

She knows that this, like a lot of things they’ve discussed today, is dangerous territory; it was the whole reason why she never even considered naming the spider-monkey currently residing in her stomach. Not even a temporary one. 

For one, it wasn’t her place. At all. This wasn’t her kid. This was Dave and Sarah’s.

And two, naming it, calling it by anything other than the fun, creative little nicknames she’d come up with, would only make it easier to create some sort of attachment. 

Right now, though, the conversation seems harmless; they’re only telling the backstories their given names, even sharing their “could-have-been” names. 

For instance, Ned was almost a Tim, and was even a Valerie before they even knew he was a boy.

Betty was originally a Sophie, to which everyone agreed that it was good, but not nearly as fitting as her current name. 

Gwen’s parents seemed to have a lot of trouble with her, having gone through a large number of girls’ names before settling. At first, she was Eleanor. Then, she was Caroline. Then, Evelyn. She was even Alexa for a hot minute.

Peter didn’t really have any story to share, his only contribution being that he knew it was a decision between Richard and Peter, and obviously... his parents went with the latter. 

“I was almost Mary,” Michelle says, fingers toying unconsciously with the laces of her hoodie. “They were gonna name me after my great-grandmother or something like that.”

Betty tilts her head slightly. “You don’t seem like a Mary.”

Ned and Gwen agree, nodding.

“Yeah, I like Michelle a lot better,” Peter adds, the corners of his lips tugging upward into a faint smile. “More fitting.”

MJ fights back an eye roll, not smiling back despite the warmth that spreads throughout her body. “Thanks, I guess?”

“Hey! At least it’s not Alexa!” Gwen laughs. “Do you have any idea how annoying that would be now? It’s a great name but…yeah.”

She had a point; Amazon pretty much ruined it. At least for a while.

“I don’t know,” Ned says, resting his chin in his hand, brows pinching together in though. “I kind of like it. Or, like, can you imagine being named Siri? Anytime anyone talks to their phone you can just like… butt in.” 

“Or Google?” Peter quickly adds, unable to hide the proud grin playing at his lips at the mostly successful execution of another joke. 

They don’t laugh as hard this time, but it garners a very similar reaction as before; Ned and Betty use each other as support beams while Gwen giggles loudly, throwing her head back, using a gentle hand to playfully shove the boy next to her. 

And once again, MJ only allows herself a millisecond of amusement before she feels the familiar poke of annoyance. 

It wasn’t that funny.

“Okay, but honestly, I love the name Eleanor,” Betty says, almost wistfully. “I like Gwen, but I think that would have been just as fitting.”

“Same,” Gwen nods, eyes bright. “I’ll probably use that if I have daughter. Or any kids.”

“You know, I’ve always liked the name Jacob,” Ned adds, wanting to contribute.

Michelle is hoping, praying, that they don’t ask her— or Peter, for that matter; she doesn’t need to know— what she thinks, what names she likes, and all the ones she doesn’t. Throughout the whole conversation about baby names, she’s hyper-aware of the stirring in her stomach; she can feel every little movement, every tiny adjustment. She knows all this commotion is probably a product of her heightened stress in this situation, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. 

There’s a sense of uneasiness passed between her and Peter the more the others go on and on, and for a moment, she’s comforted by their shared anxiety as they exchange wary glances. 

Really, this isn’t something either of them want to address in this particular instance. 

Thankfully, due to their strong mental connection as a trio— at least Michelle likes to think— Ned starts to take the hint, and he successfully steers the conversation towards something more simple, and not baby-related. 

When it’s finally dropped, MJ lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in, her shoulders dropping as the tension is released. Her gaze flicks to Peter, who seems just as relieved. 

Betty is the next to leave, gasping in surprise as she looks at the clock, seeing that another two hours had already passed. Ned graciously offers to walk her out, earning himself a subtle, yet proud nod from both Peter and Michelle. 

The two new love-ish birds are gone for a little longer than necessary, long enough to where Gwen realizes that she needed to be home half-an-hour ago. She hastily gathers her things, with some of Peter’s help, and heads for the door, but turns before she leaves. 

There’s a smile full of so much warmth and admiration on her face, it could honestly brighten up an entire room. “Michelle, hey, I’m sorry if I got too nosey tonight,” she says, a hint of shyness to her voice. 

MJ shrugs. “It’s fine,” she offers blankly.

“I just think it’s so cool… what you’re doing,” Gwen elaborates. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. And— And, it just shows how strong you are, as a person, you know?” 

To say that MJ was taken aback would be a bit of an understatement. No, she wasn’t surprised that Gwen was being nice to her, that was expected, given that Gwen was such an A+ human. It was mainly the words spoken that elicited the emotional reaction in her gut. 

“Thanks, Gwen,” she finally says, nodding her head slowly, the corner of her lip pulling upward into a half-smile. 

“Anytime. Just let me know if you ever need anything, okay?” The sincerity in Gwen’s tone could rival even the purest of heart. 

When she’s finally out the door, Michelle is left with a warm feeling in her chest, forgetting how annoyed she was in the first place. 

Nice people could have that effect on others. 

That, and being pregnant has turned Michelle into this big softie.

But that warm feeling turns into something else when she sits back down with Peter, and she ignores it, deciding to bury it deep in the ravines of her mind. 

She can see his leg jiggling out of the corner of her eye, and she can practically feel the nerves radiating off of him. He lets out a breathy laugh as their gazes meet, and he shakes his head. “I love everyone, but I’m so glad that’s over.”

Michelle exhales sharply through her nose, feeling herself nod in strong agreement. “Yup,” is her only reply, emphasizing the “p” with an audible pop.

Peter, wonderfully, painfully awkward Peter, looks down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs together. 

Clearly, there’s a question just waiting to come out, at the forefront of his mind, and that same sense of uneasiness returns to Michelle’s gut as she wonders what it could possibly be. 

“Can I ask you something?” Peter asks.

“You just did.”

“MJ, I’m serious,” Peter pleads through an exasperated laugh. “Can I ask you something?”

She takes a moment to look back up at him, expression serious as ever. “I don’t know,” she says, averting her eyes. When she returns to meet his gaze, she squints.  _ “Can _ you?”

He knows she’s doing that thing where she uses humor as a defense mechanism against any form of emotion, but that doesn’t stop him from snorting in laughter and shaking his head. “You’re the worst.”

She shrugs.

After a beat, the tone gets serious once again, and Michelle doesn’t like it. Not one bit. 

“I’m just curious,” Peter starts, pausing, calculating, as he chooses his next words carefully. “We were just talking about this stuff— and I don’t know… I know it’s kind of… weird for us to talk about, or even think about… but—” He stops, pursing his lips in thought. “Just out of genuine curiosity… do you have any names? That… you like?”

For once, Michelle can’t hide behind a dry joke and some well-placed wit. She shakes her head too quickly. “Nope. No. Nuh-uh. No. We can’t talk about this.”

He holds his hands up in defense. “I know! I know… it’s not really our place. Like, at all.”

“You’re damn right it’s not.”

“But—” He swallows. “ _ Hypothetically _ … Like later down the line… What would you name your kid?”

She knows that even with that word tacked on, there’s still a heaviness to that question, a hidden meaning behind it. 

But it can’t be real if it’s only hypothetical. At least that’s how she reasons it when she answers him. That, and the signature Peter Parker Puppy Eyes he’s currently throwing her.

“Well,” she starts, biting the inside of her cheek. “In a purely hypothetical situation where I decided to bring life into this world—” She stops momentarily, collecting her thoughts. In reality, this isn’t really something she’s thought extensively about, because for one, she’d never imagined herself having children ever. It wasn’t on her life to-do list. “I don’t know. I’d probably name them after a distant relative or something. Like after my grandparents. I also just like the idea of babies having old people names, like Geraldine or Mortimer. That’s pretty cute, I guess.”

Peter can’t help but grin at her answer.

Her heart starts to hammer in her chest, knowing she shouldn’t turn the question around, but she does anyway. “What about you? You got any names picked out? Hypothetically?”

The smile on his face isn’t as light as it was, the cheery, brightness being replaced with something more distant. “Uh, yeah… I mean, my parent’s names were Richard and Mary, and I like both of them. Maybe not Richard as much…” He reasons, chuckling softly. “But Mary is kinda nice.” 

“My parents really liked it, too,” Michelle offers, humor tinted in her tone. “But, it’s fair game now. You’re free to use it.” 

“Thanks,” Peter says in mock gratitude. “I appreciate it.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” Michelle sighs dramatically, placing a hand on her heart. She immediately breaks that character, snickering quietly to herself, trying to push down the butterflies (or baby, she can’t really tell what’s making all that racket down there anymore) when Peter laughs with her. 

A beat of comfortable silence passes between them, and the humor in Peter’s entire demeanor seems to deflate. He’s looking down at his hands as he swallows. “I also think— I mean, I like the idea of…” His voice trails off as he looks back up at her, a sad, worn smile now replacing the old one. “Ben…”

Michelle immediately registers exactly what he means, and the knot in her stomach tightens, a lump forming in her throat. She knows that Peter never talks about his uncle, the memory being far too painful to recollect. But though he never mentions the man, she knows for a fact that he thinks about him every damn day. 

It’s in moments where he thinks she can’t see him. He gets this far away look in his eyes, the faintest hint of guilt and sadness shining. It’s never for very long, and he’s usually pulled out of it relatively easily, but she knows that the thoughts and memories don’t go away. 

She’d never met the man personally, but she’s heard stories about him, and she’s seen his influence on how Peter acts and treats others. There have been very few times where Peter actually mentioned him by name, and Michelle’s been there for a fraction of them. The way her best friend talks about him, the way his eyes glimmer and the fondness and pride that linger in his voice…

Even with as little information she’s been given, she could tell that Ben Parker was a good man. 

A slow, but small smile pulls at her lips, and she nods. “Yeah, Ben’s a good name.”

She knows that she shouldn’t have asked. She knows that it was a bad idea. But, when Peter’s face brightens up, when he nods, lips pressing together in a cute little, happy line, she finds that at that moment, she doesn’t care. This was something that mattered to him, something that he  _ wanted _ to talk about, and she knows that he feels better, having gotten that out in the open.

Yes, she was actually (not hypothetically) pregnant, and yes, there was no logical reason for them to discuss names of any children at all…

But it’s all hypothetical. The naming, that is. 

It was harmless. 

Like playing-pretend when they were younger. 

And  _ hypothetically… _

Ben was a great name. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading!! lemme know what you guys think!!
> 
> also, if you want life updates/writing updates and what not you can follow my tumbler @spiderman-homecomeme!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see everybody!! Thank you so much for sticking it out with me for this long month-and-a-half. I'm so sorry for keeping you all waiting! A lot of life stuff happened and school was really intense, but I am back!! I hope you guys enjoy this one! <3
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving! What are you thankful for? I'm thankful for finally finishing this chapter!

After the whole fiasco that was the baby-name discussion the other night, Michelle’s decided that maybe talking any baby stuff with Peter at this point is pretty high up on the grand list of bad ideas she’s composed in her head; right next to actually keeping the baby. 

The way his eyes twinkled, the way his smile warmed the entire room, she can’t get it out of her head. Everytime she closes her eyes, she sees the nervous, but happy grin that stretched from ear to ear when she’d agreed that, yes, Ben was a good name for a kid. 

Hypothetically. 

No matter what she does, no matter how she tries to distract herself, she’s can’t stop thinking about it, and it’s goddamn annoying is what it is. 

Of course, she’d get a good chance to start this whole avoiding anything about the baby thing soon. Thanksgiving break was literally a day away, and she’d be spending all five days in Wheaton, Illinois with Linda’s family; not entirely ideal, but hey, at least it gave her an out. 

Cliche as it sounds, things changed after that night. Peter, who was always so considerate and nice to her, seemed to amplify that sentiment by about eighty-five percent. Truly, she didn’t think he could get any more caring than he actually was. 

Which was why that some distance would be good for both of them. 

She tried not to act too distant; she wasn’t about to give her plan away. If she totally cut him off completely, he’d figure it out pretty quick, and that would just create more drama and tension that Michelle really didn’t want to deal with. 

So, she settled for a happy medium of being amicable, but not too friendly. Still snarky, but not  _ too _ snarky. She was essentially demoting herself from  _ best friend _ to just _ friend. _ It was all about balance.

If Peter noticed anything different, he certainly didn’t say anything out loud. He seemed more preoccupied with whatever his and May’s plans were over break, which was honestly a blessing for Michelle. Made her job a lot easier. 

The three of them— Ned, Peter, and MJ— go their separate ways on the Tuesday afternoon before break. Ned’s got a flight to catch with his family, and Michelle is leaving at the crack of dawn to see hers. They all leave on the promise to text and to send any and every meme to their group chat. It’s beautiful, really, in it’s own way.

And with a sigh of relief, Michelle steps out of the school, her body, mind, and soul ready for these five days of rest.  

* * *

 

The fourth thursday of the month this year feels strange to Peter. There’s this odd pit in his stomach, empty and cold. It twists and pulls, a chill radiating through his entire body.

The faint sound of a Christmas piano playlist on Spotify twinkling throughout the apartment, the light smell of cinnamon and other autumnal spices hanging on the air both made for a confusing atmosphere; the future of candy canes and the present of turkeys and pumpkins seeming to meld into one. 

In just under thirty minutes, at about 2:00 PM, Tony, Pepper, and Colonel Rhodes would be joining them for a small Thanksgiving Dinner, courtesy of May (with Peter’s help, of course). They’d suggested having the meal Upstate at the compound, but his aunt insisted that the apartment would be much cozier. Though now, she might have been regretting that decision as she scrambles frantically about the kitchen.

To anyone else, this might seem ideal. A nice dinner with close friends, no hordes of random relatives harping on about what you’re going to do with your life, no risk of angry political arguments, and perhaps most importantly, no kids table that Peter would be forced to sit at. 

Under normal circumstances, Peter would be over the moon at the prospect of spending Thanksgiving day with Mr. and Mrs. Pepper Potts (and Rhodey, too), but considering the state of his personal life at the given moment, he was finding it a little difficult to get into the thankful spirit. 

Ever since that night at Ned’s apartment, when Peter had opened up by way of sharing what he’d name his future children, Michelle’s been distant. 

It’s understandable though.

He knows that that was something she wasn’t necessarily itching to talk about, and he knows that it took a lot of patience and will to sit through that entire night. 

So, he happily gave her that distance she wanted, not wanting to push her too much in the wrong direction. 

These five days away from each other will do them all (Ned included) some good. 

For a moment, he feels a prick of jealousy knowing that his two best friends get to go somewhere else for the holiday, that they’re going to be literally surrounded by relatives of all shapes and sizes. They’ll come back with stories and rants about so-and-so saying this and so-and-so doing that, which relative got the drunkest and embarrassed themself the most. 

It causes a sickness that boils in his stomach. 

He barely registers May’s cheerful voice as she asks him to pull the apple pie from the oven, too lost in his own thoughts to offer any sort of response. 

She has to ask another time for him to actually register that she’s even speaking. He startles, mumbling out a sheepish apology as he pulls on the specialty  _ Gobble ‘til you wobble  _ Thanksgiving oven mitts. 

As he gently places the plate on the counter, May steps back, hands resting on her hips as she her eyes meticulously scan over each and every dish. 

This is by far, the most they’ve made for Thanksgiving in three years, and needless to say, she’s possibly the teensiest bit stressed at the idea of hosting the dinner for guests once again. Really, though, she has nothing to worry about.

The mashed potatoes are fluffy and golden, nearly reaching into an entirely cloud-like state. The dressing—or stuffing, she’s not sure which—is a little dry, but it tastes great. And the sweet potato casserole that Peter put together, even with the marshmallows being a toasted a fraction unevenly, looks pretty darn good.

Plus, with two pies, she’d say they were all set. 

All that was missing was the green bean casserole, the turkey, and the rolls, all of which being brought by their lovely guests… in about… 10 minutes.

She’s never claimed to be a five-star chef, but damn it, if she isn’t proud of the work she and Peter put in today. “You know, I gotta say, I didn’t think we could do it….” May starts, wiping her brow. “But, damn, we’re good at reading directions,” she laughs, eyes sparkling as she shakes her head.

All he can offer is an amused huff through the nose as he nods in agreement. “Yeah,” he says quietly. Of course, he’s proud, too. But the feeling is short-lived, quickly being overshadowed by the gray rain cloud that’s been looming over his head the past few days.

He knows he shouldn’t dwell too much, after all, it is Thanksgiving day, but he honestly can’t help it. Ever since Ben died, holidays, particularly ones that involve family traditions, have been difficult. Everyday, every milestone without his uncle was a stinging, twisting pain in his chest and over the past three years, he’s been able to slowly heal, though it wasn’t by much. The only thing he could really do was to just get better at hiding it.

And he had.

But now, given the recent developments in his weird and complicated relationship with MJ, all of those feelings have been brought right back to the forefront of his mind. All of this was a constant reminder of not just the absence of his uncle, but the absence of a whole family.

He already didn’t have “real” parents. That was something that had been a fact of life since he was about four. Then, May and Ben stepped into the role, and they did a damn good job. But now, it’s just him and May. 

And he loves her, he really does. She’s done so much for him that he will never be able to repay. She loves and cares for him, and he’s not even a blood relative, their only tie being her marriage to his uncle. 

And in all of this, he knows that it shouldn’t matter if it’s by blood or by anything else, but he can’t shake the negative thoughts from his mind. 

That storm, at least for a moment, is forgotten when the buzzer sounds throughout the apartment and Peter is once again pulled from his own dark thoughts. Soon, the rooms are filled with a symphony of conversation and laughter as May lets Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey in. Hugs and handshakes are exchanged, holiday greetings and  _ how are yous _ . 

“How ya holding up, Pete?” Tony asks as he gives Peter a firm pat on the back. 

Deciding between telling the full truth and lying just a bit actually proved to be quite difficult. “I’m alright, Mr. Stark,” he only stretches the truth a bit, not a full out lie. 

But even though he’s only known the guy for a little over two years, he feels as if Tony can see right through that answer. Mr. Stark offers him a quick, faint smile, perhaps trying to provide some means of comfort.

He doesn’t say another word though, bookmarking the conversation for later. “Oh, May, Vision sends his love, apologies, or whatever,” Tony called out. “He’s out on some personal mission, and was unable to make it.”

Rhodey immediately moved to his friend, voice hushed. “Do you know where he is?”

Tony’s lip quirked upward slightly. “Of course I do. He’s still got his tracker on, so all I have to do is check.”

“Is he with—?”

“Yes.”

And nothing more is said on the matter, Rhodey only nodding in response as he moves to set the dinner rolls on the table. 

Instead of asking where Vision is and who he’s with—though any business involving the Avengers seems really important—Peter helps May set finish setting the table. Pepper offers to help carve the turkey, as “ _ someone  _ forgot to do it before we left.” She passes a pointed, but playful look to Tony, who’s gives a sheepish smile and a shrug.

It all happens so fast, that before Peter knows it, they’re all gathered around the table, each filling their plate to full capacity, passing around the dinner rolls as they laugh and joke with one another. It’s a sight that makes his heart full, though the ghost of the ache is still there, ever present. 

But then, when he sees the way their guests interact with each other, he starts thinking. Really, everyone here is in the same boat he’s in. 

No one here is related by blood. 

Tony’s parents were killed in the nineties. Pepper doesn’t really have much family left; he knows she just recently lost her Uncle Morgan. And Colonel Rhodes… he really doesn’t know his personal life, but the fact that he’s here at all seems to speak volumes.

He wonders if holidays like this are just as hard for them. The life of an Avenger seems to be fairly lonely sometimes, even though you could be surrounded by a dozen other heroes. He knew from when Aunt May invited them, and from Pepper’s answer, that Tony didn’t really celebrate big family holidays. It’s only been a recent development in an effort to become… well, “happier.”

And as Peter ponders this, fork pushing around the food in his plate, he begins to realize that just because he wasn’t directly related to these people didn’t mean that they were any less important than family. 

They  _ were _ his family. 

It’s a cheesy thought, and he knows for a fact that if MJ were here, she’d tease him about it. She’d probably say something along the lines of, “You sound like you’re from a  _ Fast and Furious _ movie,” and he can’t bite back the smile that’s threatening to show as he imagines her voice as she says that, because, hey it was kind of true. 

“What are you smiling about?” Aunt May asks quietly, nudging him gently with her shoulder. 

Peter looks around the table, feeling the clouds above his head melt away, the coldness and emptiness he felt earlier now gone. 

He shrugs, the expression still etched on his features as he looks up. “Just really glad everyone is here.”

* * *

If she were being honest, Michelle was never really a fan of Thanksgiving. Just the idea of it, in general. Sure, it was great to have a day where everyone is supposed to reflect on what they are thankful for— a show of gratitude from time to time is good for the soul— but all that magic is kind of ruined when you remember that it’s also essentially a celebration for Native genocide.

And spending time with her entire family was also a bit of a mixed bag. 

Well, not her entire family. Just Linda’s side. 

If this were the Joneses, this would be totally different. All of them were cool. 

Linda’s family… well some were great, and some were not so great. She came from a family of a multitude of opinions, and frankly, Michelle wasn’t too keen on spending an entire break with them. 

It should also be pointed out that last time Michelle saw any of her aunts and uncles, she was much smaller and very much not pregnant. This was a recent development in her life, and needless to say, it came as a bit of a shock to her relatives. 

She wasn’t really worried about judgement or criticism, no, she was way past that. Going to school with a bunch of high schoolers had more than prepared her for something like this. Plus, she’s pretty much mastered the art of dealing with all kinds of ignorance. A true pro. 

Really, she just didn’t want to hear what any of them had to say. 

It’s so strange. When you get pregnant, suddenly every human on the planet becomes an expert in literally everything concerning babies, and for some reason, they always feel the undying urge to share with you the fountain of knowledge. They think they’re being helpful, but it’s goddamn annoying is what it is. 

The thirteen hour drive to Wheaton wasn’t so bad, excluding a bit of bad weather here and there, the fact that they had to leave at the ungodly hour of five in the morning, and Annie’s incessant asking of the age old question, “are we there yet?” But, given all of that, they still make it Wednesday night all in one piece, if not a little grumpy from all that time in an enclosed space.

Aunt Mel greets them all with tight hugs—except for Michelle, she’s excessively gentle and cautious with her—and warm welcomes, planting a gentle kiss on top of Annie’s head. As they enter the house, they’re assaulted with what can only be described as a department store during Christmas, the fake cinnamon smell filling their nostrils. With a twinge of annoyance, Michelle notes that their tree is already up. 

“It’s so good to see you guys!” Mel gushes, her expression warm. “I hope the drive wasn’t too bad?”

“Long,” Bill says simply, lips pressing together into a thin smile. 

“Very long,” Linda agrees quickly, sighing in slight relief. “But it was so worth it,” she grins, pulling her sister into another hug. 

They follow Aunt Mel through the spacious suburban home, though not after she’s insisted that she carry most of the luggage with the help of her sons, stopping every few feet to greet a new family member. Cousin Laura (Mel’s daughter), her husband Sean, and their one year old Avery; Uncle Alan, who’s married to Mel, sits at the leather recliner, making funny faces at the toddler, earning himself a fit of giggles; health nut Aunt Jana, who happens to be one of perhaps, the most outspoken women Michelle’s ever encountered, is standing by the fireplace, half-full glass of a dry cabernet sauvignon in hand; Uncle Brian, Jana’s hubby, sits quietly at one end of the couch, nose buried in his phone as he tries to avoid any and all interaction. 

It’s with every separate greeting that Michelle starts to feel the stares. Well, not entirely on her, mostly on her belly. They start well enough, but every pair of eyes made the same, briefest path from her face to her stomach in a matter of seconds. 

The attention isn’t very hard to ignore—again, none of this was new to her, and she knows that they can’t help it. Her stomach really was that Big and Out There™.  But even with her previous experience, she can’t fight the twinge of annoyance that pulls at her gut when their gazes flick down for even a fraction of a second.

After what seems like forever of small talk with everyone, Mel shows them to their rooms, ones that she’s so graciously offered up to them, given that most of their other relatives are staying in either hotels or AirBnbs. To her surprise, Michelle is given her own space in one of the larger guest bedrooms. 

“Figured you’d want somewhere where you and the baby couldn’t be disturbed,” her aunt explains as she sets Michelle’s stuff down next to the bed. 

Like the polite niece she is, Michelle offers her sincerest gratitude that she can muster, finding herself unbelievably tired as soon as she even looks in the general direction of the cozy mattress. 

She doesn’t entirely remember the rest of that night; the interaction with ten-plus relatives combined with the long drive sucking out every last bit of energy she had. 

The next morning was just as chaotic, if not more so than the previous night. Michelle awoke to the sound of pots and pans clanging loudly, distant voices fulls of jokes and laughter resonating throughout the house. 

As much as she wanted to spend the entire day in bed, her stomach growling and little fugitive squirming about practically forced her out of bed. That, and she had to pee like she never had before. 

Honestly though, it might have been a mistake getting up. It’s hard being sneaky when you’re approximately the size of a small whale, so when MJ takes even one step onto the cool wood floors of the living room, she’s greeted with all too loud chorus of  _ good mornings  _ and  _ did you sleep wells.  _ She notices her cousin Laura, who is admittedly one of the coolest people here, on the couch as she watches Avery stand at the coffee table, one tiny hand gripping the edge of the furniture while the other grabs at any and every object and dropping it. The toddler erupts into a fit of giggles every time, never tiring of the satisfying  _ thump _ as the remote control hits the floor for nearly the hundredth time.

Michelle has to admit, it’s pretty cute. 

The feeling of regret only comes when Laura asks Michelle to watch the one-year-old so that she can go back to cooking.

That was another weird thing about being pregnant. Everyone just assumed that MJ had become a master instantly, that she had been overcome with this overwhelming maternal instinct, that she was capable of and comfortable with handling a tiny, dependent human. (Spoiler alert, she was not.)

Before she can even say no, Laura slowly rises from the couch as to not alert Avery, and quietly sneaks away.

Fortunately, for everyone in the house, Avery doesn’t even noticed, too entranced in her game of  _ gravity makes things fall.  _

When Michelle scoots closer, the toddler does turn and look, offering a toothy, cheesy grin. “Ba!” She babbles, brandishing the very same remote in her tiny, chunky hands. 

Now, don’t get her wrong, Michelle thinks kids are alright, but damn it, she’s not sure if she’s felt this awkward in a long time. “Uh, yeah, that’s neat, Avery.”

“Ba!” 

MJ nods slowly. “Yup. That’s exactly what that is.”

The toddler bounces up and down, though still makes sure to keep one hand at the edge of the coffee table at all times. 

This whole scenario goes on for a few more minutes, Michelle finding herself getting a little more comfortable as soon as she reminds herself that, no, the baby can’t really judge, and no, the baby can’t really understand what she’s saying, so really, she doesn’t have to worry about making friends. It’s only when Avery turns around fully, forgetting completely about the remote and table, placing both hands on Michelle’s legs, fingers gripping the black fabric of the joggers she’s wearing in an attempt to climb up. 

Michelle tenses slightly, unsure of what to do. Though, when a frustrated cry sounds in the room, she sucks it up, pulling the child into her lap. Avery smiles, the small expression undeniably cute at the win. 

A baby in her lap, Michelle finds herself at a loss once again, holding the tiny child a small distance away. Avery’s smile fades, though she doesn’t get upset, instead becoming absolutely fascinated with the pattern on Michelle’s sweater. Her tiny hands reach out, trying to grab at the various shades of green in front of her, little brows creased in concentration. Though, having such a short attention span, her focus moves to the delicate chain around Michelle’s neck. She’s a little more successful grabbing this one, an excited laugh escaping her as she does so. 

_ Damn, babies really are impressed with everything.  _

The slightest hint of a smile pulls at Michelle’s lips as she observes the tiny human; big brown eyes and chubby cheeks, little baby curls… 

It’s all too cute. 

Avery looks down, babbling some other incoherent words in her own toddler language as she places a hand on Michelle’s baby bump, the touch surprisingly gentle for a one-year-old. 

If she weren’t so emotionally compromised by everything in her life right now, Michelle would not have been so moved by such a gesture, but now, at this moment, it makes her heart lurch in her chest. 

Michelle lets out an amused puff of air through her nose, lips tugging into a smile, not wanting to lose her composure over a baby. “Yeah, there’s another baby in there. Weird, right?”

Avery looks back up at her, not understanding at all, but still matching the same expression, though perhaps a little more excited. She lets out a silent laugh, her face scrunching up as she moves to bury herself in Michelle’s hair. 

And though Michelle’s not sure why this is so entertaining to the one-year-old, she can’t fight back that warm fuzzy feeling that swarms her entire body. 

But she should have known that this cute little moment wouldn’t last. Not even a full thirty seconds after their little exchange, Avery realized that dear old Mom was no longer in the room. Her once smiling face crumpled, bottom lip jutting out as her eyes frantically looked around before squeezing shut. 

And suddenly, the cute factor is gone as the wailing starts, a harsh reminder of Michelle’s nightmares, along with every reason why she never really wanted kids in the first place, and she’s not entirely sure what to do. Does she try to comfort the kid? Hold her closer? Let her cry it out? Does she go find Laura?

Without even a second’s hesitation, she elects to take the fourth option, wasting no time in carrying the crying child across the house. 

Though this might have made things worse, because as soon as Laura’s voice could be heart, Avery’s cries only increase in volume, bringing Michelle’s blood pressure rising right along with them. Her little arms reach out for her mother as soon as she’s visible, eyes now open, no tears flowing. 

“Oh, you’re fine,” Laura coos, taking the screaming child from Michelle’s arms before mouthing, “Sorry.” The crying immediately stops, and Avery’s face is light and happy again.

“It’s okay,” MJ shrugs, though she doesn’t feel nearly as nonchalant on the inside, a twisting, swift movement in her gut a sign that she wasn’t the only one affected by the sudden stress. “We had some good bonding time while it lasted.”

Laura offers an kind smile at that, before turning her attention back to her child. 

The rest of the afternoon is fairly uneventful. MJ helps with the baked mac n’ cheese, something that she is way too excited about, and soon enough, the entire family is gathered at the dining room table, overflowing their plates with all the food that they could.

They go around and do that cheesy thing where everyone says what they’re thankful for, and all Michelle wants to do is bury herself in mashed potatoes, but Aunt Jana goes on and on about God knows what. 

The sigh of relief that comes out of her when they start eating is almost cartoonish, and she immediately digs in. And suddenly, all of the troubles that have been weighing down on her, plaguing her mind, seem to just float away, She ignores the conversations around the table, all of her love and attention devoted to every single carb on her plate. 

It’s when she hears Aunt Jana’s voice that she is pulled from her trance like, potato-induced state. “Michelle, sweetie, do you know what you’re having?”

MJ startles slightly, eyes widening a bit as she glances between her family and her plate. “...Potatoes?” She asks with her mouth full.

That earns her a round of laughter, though she’s not sure why, though her parents seem to stiffen, ready to jump at her defense. 

“No, no, no,” Aunt Jana cackles. “The baby. Boy or a girl?” 

And it’s then that she wants to crawl under the table and never come back up. Her entire head becomes too warm for comfort, and she clears her throat. “Actually, no. I, uh, don’t really wanna find out though.... until it’s born.”

Jana cocks her head in confusion. “How come?”

“Well, I kinda want it to be a surprise… for Sarah and Dave, mostly.”

“Oh, are those your friends at school?” Jana asks, brows raising in slight intrigue. 

Michelle almost laughs at the question. “Uh, no, they’re the adoptive parents.”

At that the table becomes oddly quiet, forks slowing their movements, the only ones not really affected being her younger cousins and little sister. 

Weirdly enough, Aunt Jana’s head jerks back slightly in surprise, expression becoming one of muted shock. Her mouth forms a small, “o” as she nods. “I had no idea you were considering adoption.”

MJ gives a single, uncomfortable nod. “Yup.”

The room is enveloped in a heavy silence for a moment, before Jana speaks again, her voice cutting through the air. “Is the father still in the picture?”

At this, Michelle stops, her fork pausing mid air as she passes a wary glance up at the rest of the table. Quietly, in an effort to somewhat quell her discomfort, she clears her throat. “Uh, yeah,” she finally manages with a sense of finality. “Yeah he is.”

Now, Uncle Brian seems intrigued, leaning forward slightly as he lowers his fork. “Is he your boyfriend?”

How on Earth her uncle could think that that was even a remotely good question to ask was beyond her. Really, it makes Michelle want to gouge her eyes out, however, instead of violence, she tries to handle it with as much calm as she can muster. “No,” she says firmly, a veiled warning. 

Aunt Jana just won’t quit though, and is seemingly unsatisfied with not knowing every dirty detail. “And how does he feel about this whole… adoption thing?” 

“Uh, he’s pretty cool with it,” Michelle answers, a little unsure. “I guess.”

“You guess?” Jana asks skeptically, voice tinted in a slight amusement that causing Michelle to involuntarily clench her jaw. The way the older woman’s eyes are challenging hers, questioning causes an unwelcome horde of doubt to plague her mind. 

As if sensing the conversation taking a nosedive south, Linda interjects. “Peter’s a great kid, a great friend, and has been very supportive of Michelle this entire time.”

Bill nods firmly, passing a comforting glance to his daughter before adding, “He comes to every appointment she has. He’s in it just as much as she is.”

Aunt Jana shrugs slightly, holding her hands up in defense. “I understand, but Michelle, hon, you don’t seem so certain. Now, one of you is bound to get attached given how young both of you are, and… If I were you, I’d double check and make sure your ‘baby daddy’ is on the same page, even if he is your friend.”

Michelle’s never quite realized how offensive the term “baby daddy,” was until right at this moment. 

“Jana,” Linda snapped, though she help most of her composure. “I hardly think you’re the right person to give out relationship advice, given you’re on husband number four at the moment.”

And just like that, the judgemental aunt was silence, her jaw slamming shut in an instant. 

Honestly, Michelle didn’t know whether she wanted to hug, bow down to, or congratulate Linda for the colossal burn. 

The rest of dinner is not spent in silence, but more uncomfortable, forced small talk, the intermittent sound of forks and knives clanking against plates being louder than the actual conversations.

Michelle finishes early, quietly dismissing herself to her room as almost as soon as she swallows the last bite of turkey. Normally, she’d be ready to argue for herself, to stand up for her actions and her emotions, but she can’t bring herself to. 

Yeah, deep down, she knew that Judgemental Jana had a fair point; truthfully, Michelle was unsure as to where Peter stood on all of this. In the beginning, right from when she’d first told him, he’d said he’d support her one-hundred percent, and so far, he’s stuck to his word. 

But she knew that what he  _ did  _ didn’t necessarily have to line up with how he really felt.

Which meant that, this whole time, he could have been against everything, and that he was only doing this for her sake.

The thought brings a tight ache to her chest. 

She falls— gently, as to not jostle her belly— onto the soft mattress, burying her head into her pillow. A frustrated groan escaped her as she clenched her fists, cursing her heightened emotions. 

She hated that they (mainly Jana) made her feel this way, that they made her doubt her decisions. 

This was absolutely something that they had to talk about, and she was well aware of that. 

Didn’t mean she wanted to do it though. 

Numerous times, she tries to talk herself into it, grabbing her phone, saying, “fuck it,” and opening her contacts, but she can’t bring herself to tap that little green icon next to his name. For one, she doesn’t even know what the hell she’d say, or even how to go about asking him how he really feels about all of this. 

And for two, she doesn’t know what she’d even do with the information if she gets it.

Like,  _ “Oh, cool, so you wanna keep the baby? Great, let’s do it. Cancel everything. Let’s get married. Oh, and have another kid while we’re at it!”  _

Though she knows that even after having this potential conversation, the outcome won’t change.

No matter what.

Before she can even stop herself, and after a bout of courage, she taps the icon, bringing the phone to her ear, her eyes squeezing shut as she tries to put her straying thoughts into actual, cohesive sentences. 

It rings four or five times.

She almost thinks he’s going to ignore it, until—

_ “MJ! Hey, what’s up? Happy Thanksgiving,”  _ the soft, nice voice of Peter answers, and for the briefest of moments, she forget why she even called, her stomach fluttering slightly. 

_ “MJ?” _

“Uh, hey,” She finally says, clearing her throat, realizing that she hadn’t answered him, even though she was the one who called. “Happy Turkey Day, uh, loser... And all that.”

_ “Thanks…”  _ She can hear the skepticism and worry in his voice, and can almost see the way his brows would wrinkle in concern.  _ “Are you okay?” _

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m good,” she lies, looking down at her nails, teeth gnawing at the inside of her lip. 

_ “So… How was your Thanksgiving?” _

Michelle doesn’t answer immediately, involuntarily cringing at the question. “Uh,” She pauses, debating on whether or not now was the right time to start this whole discussion. It’d be rude to do it right then, wouldn’t it? “It was alright. How was yours?”

_ “Really good, actually,” _ Peter says, his light but tired smile audible.Another beat of silence passes between them. When she continues to offer no response, he adds,  _ “So, uh, how’s your family?”  _

Instantly, she feels guilty, knowing that he’s only continuing this conversation out of his unyielding desire to always be polite—one of his best friends called on a holiday, damn it, he has to talk to them!—and she knows she can’t pretend she was just calling him to ask about his day. It was too… not like her. 

“Good,” She answers, drawing out the “oo,” for a little too long. “How’s yours?”

Immediately, she flinches at how she returned the question, knowing that this was a sensitive subject for Peter.

But instead of a melancholy voice, he remains steady, and she can still hear the happiness in his voice. 

“Really good.”

And that answer surprises, but she doesn’t say anything. 

Another beat of silence. 

_ “So—” _

“Actually, now that I think about it—” She blurts, cutting him off before he can even get another consonant in. All of this, this insecurity, this doubt, this behavior was so out of character for her, and she absolutely hated it. “Uhm—” She coughs. “Funny story. And I kinda want your opinion on this.” It’s not really a funny story at all, she knows. 

_ “Okay…”  _ And just like that, the worry is back in his voice.

She forces a light laugh, her nerves getting the best of her. “So, I was talking to my aunt, or I guess my aunt was talking to me, and we got onto the topic of the baby. And then that turned into talking about you and then she asked if you were on board with everything and I was like, ‘I guess!’ and then she was questioning everything and like, ‘you need to ask him!’ and then of course Linda told her to shut up. Yeah, so isn’t that funny? Anyway, do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

There’s silence on the other end, and for a moment, she’s worried that he’s hung up.  _ “Do you… Do you mean with like _ —”

“Yes,” she answers quickly, knowing exactly what he’s getting at. Her voice is uncharacteristically small, and she feels her heart beating in her throat, thundering in her ears. “I just… Even if Aunt Jana is kinda the worst, I think she had a point, and I just wanted to ask, and— and make sure we’re all good.”

He lets out a sharp exhale, and she can almost hear the wheels in his head turning as he tries to formulate some sort of response. The faint click of a door shutting is heard on the other line. She assumes he’s in his room now. 

_ “Um… I mean, I think that—” _

“And you can be completely honest with me. No bullshit or anything. Do you think we’re making the right choice?”

_ “Yeah, uh— Well…” _ Peter struggles a bit, his light and airy mood dissipating and sobering at the new topic. He sighs.  _ “It’s hard for me to explain… but yeah. I think we’re doing what’s right for our baby. Dave and Sarah are amazing people, and I know that they’ll take great care of him or her…” _

She was waiting for the, “but…”

_ “But…” _

And there it was.

_ “God, this is hard…”  _ He laughs nervously.  _ “Didn’t think we’d be having this conversation today, you know?” _

Michelle waits patiently for him to continue, only offering a hum in agreement. 

_ “Listen,”  _ He starts, taking a deep breath.  _ “I won’t lie to you and pretend that I was all on board with the whole adoption thing. At first, I think I was a little disappointed… I’m not sure what at, because I knew, and still know, that one, we can’t raise a baby, we’re not ready to have kids yet… and two, I guess I was a little… I don’t know, not for it because I already don’t have much family. So, I guess I just thought that giving away the baby was like giving away my last bit of real family, if that makes sense?” _

“Yeah,” MJ replies quietly. 

_ “But now… I don’t know, I’ve kind of changed my mind in a way. Like, I still want that open adoption, and I still want to be as connected to our kid as much as possible and be in their life… but I think... I’m seeing everything a bit differently. So, yeah, I think this is the right decision. For everybody.” _

Michelle nods, adding another hum when she remembers that he can’t actually see her. 

And he’s not entirely sure what to say next;  _ “So,”  _ He tries to continue, his voice losing more strength.  _ “Uh, yeah,” _ he adds awkwardly. 

Biting the inside of her lip, Michelle tries to decide how exactly she’s going to respond to this. “Thanks,” she settles for that.

_ “No problem,” _ He huffs out. 

And again, for the millionth time that night, there’s a moment where neither of them speak. 

After all of this, after all that he’s just said to her, Michelle still feels that faint sting of guilt for never really asking in the first place. Really, it was kind of both of their faults for never really taking the time to communicate how they actually felt.

_ “MJ,”  _ Peter starts again, pausing a beat, and she holds her breath in anticipation.  _ “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to or anything, but… Do you think you’d ever, eventually… want to switch to an open adoption?” _

The question doesn’t surprise her as much as she thought it would, and she’d be lying if she denied ever thinking about what might happen should she decide that she wants to stay involved in the child’s life. 

Birthday parties, school plays and concerts, maybe even sports events, updates for even the smallest of accomplishments, etc. All of that… cliche parent stuff. 

Honestly, it’s too much for her. 

“No,” She answers blankly, a slight shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t think so.”

_ “Oh,” _ Peter responds, but he doesn’t say anything else, waiting for her to elaborate.

She knows she doesn’t really owe him any sort of explanation; it’s her decision after all, he doesn’t need to know her thought process behind it. 

No, she’s well aware she can keep every last bit of that bottle up, buried deep within her mind. She doesn’t  _ have _ to say anything.

But, for some reason, she  _ wants _ to.

“I just feel like it’ll make things easier. For me, at least,” she starts, mindlessly picking at the skin of her thumb. “And I don’t really have any real desire to keep up. Like, the thought of this kid knowing exactly who I am, seeing me all the time, and, God, it just sounds so… so… It just freaks me out, I guess?”

_ “Yeah, I get that. But, I’m literally the exact opposite; I’m excited to be apart of their family,  even if it isn’t super conventional,” _ he chuckles, the sound not entirely unpleasant.

“And that’s fine with me,” Michelle rests her head against the pillow, a free hand carding through her hair. “It’s just already going to be really hard. I’ve read up on my shit. I know that giving up a child isn’t necessarily the easiest thing in the world. I know that I might get attached to this kid, and if there’s anything I can do to prevent that, or to at least make it not as… bad, then I’ll do it.

That probably sounds kinda harsh, but… I don’t know…”

Peter immediately cuts her off.  _ “No, no, no, no! It doesn’t sound harsh. MJ, a lot of people make that same decision. You’re giving someone the gift of being parents, right? Whatever you decide to do after shouldn’t make a difference, and doing what’s best for you and your health doesn’t make you a bad person.” _

At this point, she’s not entirely sure where the nerves she’s feeling are coming from; the terrifying conversation, or just Peter talking to her in general. The baby lands a few big kicks, and she unconsciously brings the hand that was in her hair and rests it gently on her stomach. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles. 

_ “Anytime.” _

This time, the silence is less nerve-wracking, and becomes comfortable once again. 

_ “It doesn’t… like, bother you, that I’m choosing the open adoption, right?” _

Unlike before, Michelle is surprised by this question, given that she’s pretty positive they’ve established that they’re both cool with whatever the other wants. “No, Parker, geez. Of course not,” she reassures him, a laugh bubbling at the surface of every word.

She can hear him laugh on the other side.

“But, I’m serious,” she repeats. “It’s okay.”

She can’t actually see his face as he responds, but she’s a thousand percent sure she knows what it looks like.  _ “Thanks, MJ.” _

“Anytime,” she mimics him from earlier.

They don’t talk much longer after that, both of them tired from the afternoon spent gorging on buckets and buckets of food. The call ends on both sides with content smiles and warm hearts. Yeah, there’s still a whole load of issues that need to be worked out, but at least for the time being, they can indulge in that brief sense of relief as a weight is lifted off their shoulders. 

Michelle struggles to stay awake as he lays her phone down on the bedside table, the late afternoon light filtering through the curtains not doing anything to stop the overwhelming urge to just sleep. It’s a nice feeling, being calm, her heart not going into overdrive, her stomach not twisting into tangled up knots, the baby taking more time in its movement. 

And she thinks to herself, that it’d be kind of dumb to not take advantage of this peaceful moment. 

She falls asleep to a quiet room, images of a certain smiling nerd playing in her mind. 

* * *

The sleepy, post-Holiday dinner haze fell on Sarah’s family. A football game played on the big screen TV, the faint glow from the screen attracting a horde of sports fans likes moths to a porch light. Dave and his brothers periodically yell at the players, sometimes the referee, as if the people on the other side can hear their frustrations (they can’t.)

Sarah sits back, fairly amused, watching the spectacle with her sister-in-law, Joy. 

Something seems to go very wrong in the game, judging by the way the guys holler and throw their hands into the air. 

She enjoys football enough. Hell, her whole family does, but she’s not as into it this year. Too much is on her mind. 

But she can’t really reflect on it all that much when her four-year-old nephew bounds over to practically beaming, an appropriately sized foam football in hand. “Aunt Sarah! Aunt Sarah!” Though her name comes out more, “say-ah,” than anything. 

“Levi! Levi!” She responds with the same enthusiasm, eyes sparkling. 

“See my football?” He asks, proudly holding the toy up.

“I do! That’s awesome!” 

He grins, giggling. 

“Is it a real one?” Sarah asks.

He nods enthusiastically. “Yeah. And look. This is how you hold it,” his tone becoming more business. His fingers are right along the fake laces, and though it’s the proper alignment, his hands are still too small. “I know how to throw it too.”

Sarah exchanges a warm glance with Joy, who she almost forgot was still standing beside her, before turning back to her nephew. “Can you show me?” 

His face lights up once more, head nodding up and down with excitement. Before he can tell her to “Go long!” though, a loud cheer erupts from the sports fans, clearly something finally going right in the game. 

Levi easily gets distracted, hooping and hollering with his family as they celebrate.

The smile doesn’t leave Sarah’s face as she watches the event unfold in front of her. 

“You’re always so good with him,” Joy says, breaking the silence between them with a gentle nudge to the shoulder. 

Sarah looks down for a moment. “He’s a good kid.”

“I mean it,” Joy insists. “You’d be such a good mom.” 

At that, Sarah can feel her smile fade ever so slightly. “Thanks.”

“Hey,” her sister-in-law’s voice is quieter, and she looks around to make sure none of the others can hear before she continues. “I know you guys have been… keeping everything on the downlow, but how’s everything with that going? Have you found someone?”

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been expecting the question, but it still is a bit sobering to hear aloud. Sarah bites at the inside of her cheek, pursing her lips slightly. She, glances around and over her shoulder before answering. Her voice is low and hushed. “I think so.”

The way Joy’s eyes light up doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“But, you know how things can sometimes… fall through…”

And just like that, Joy’s expression falls slightly, and she places a gentle hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “Hey. Hey. Maybe this is it? God’s gotta smile on you at some point, right?”

Sarah shrugs. “I guess,” she replies, trying to keep her voice light. 

Joy pauses, a hopeful glint in her eyes. “I bet this is the one. I can just feel it.” 

For a moment Sarah is surprised. “That actually makes me feel so great. You’re usually so pessimistic.” 

“Things are usually pretty crappy,” Joy laughs, pulling Sarah into a comforting hug. “But seriously, I think things are gonna turn out just fine for you.” 

The familiar tightness in Sarah’s chest returns, a lump forming in her throat. She can feel the stinging at the backs of her eyes as she tries to blink back the tears. “Thank you. I need to hear that.”

“I know, sweetie.”

And in that moment, after that conversation with her sister-in-law, Sarah truly did start to feel that, maybe, everything was going to be alright. 

Everything was going to be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! If you want, follow me on tumblr @spiderman-homecomeme for sweet memes and life updates


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm back!! 
> 
> So, this took a loooong time. A lot of it was because of school and life, and a lot of it was because I was just not happy with how this chapter kept turning out! But it's here now and I'm pretty happy with it!! 
> 
> I am SO EXCITED to be back. I have a lot of fics to catch up on reading, so I'll be doing that and working on this story a whole lot!! 
> 
> I really, really hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and I wanted to thank each and every one of you for sticking with me and being patient with such an inconsistent schedule. You guys are amazing, and I appreciate you so much!!
> 
> ANOTHER NOTE: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not talk about the ffh trailer in the comments!! I have this weird thing where I don't watch trailers (i go to great lengths to do this trust me lmao) and I would really like to not know anything about ffh or the trailers 
> 
> Okay!! So with that out of the way, please enjoy!!

Michelle honestly doesn’t know if she’s ever been so glad to be home in her entire life, especially after that whole disaster-and-a-half that was Thanksgiving dinner with Linda’s family.  

She could have done without all of that stress and emotional strain. 

Really, the only good parts she got out of this trip were the food, that one cute moment with Avery, Linda’s sick burn, and, possibly the biggest one, that conversation she had with Peter. 

Unsurprisingly, neither of them have brought it up again.

Not that they needed to. 

The air had been cleared (for the most part). 

But things were great now. Not that they were bad before, but after they’d both said how they felt about this whole baby thing, everything just felt… easier. It’s almost as if talking about your feelings with others—absolutely terrifying as it is— is a  _ good _ thing.

_ Wow, what a concept.  _

She knows that underneath it all, there’s still some stuff they both need to sort out. Yeah, they’ve figured out what’s going on with this whole adoption thing, but they still seem to be in limbo with the whole, “we made this thing  _ together.” _

It’s a lot.

But, under the guise that she doesn’t want to further complicate what they’ve already discussed, Michelle doesn’t bring it up. For now, at least. 

She figures she can let it simmer on the backburner for a minute or two.

They’ll get to it eventually. 

Plus, she’s got other things to worry about. The few weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas break seem to be the time where literally every teacher has decided to slam the students with mountains of projects and homework, piling both on top of the finals already. 

The added stress of school doesn’t really help the situation any. 

And the new symptoms that have started happening have only made things that much more difficult. 

The big one being when her uterus decides that it’s time to practice for the real thing and start contracting for no reason. They’re not usually all that painful, these Braxton Hicks contractions she’s read about, but they’re pretty damn annoying. Every once in a while, there’s one that could rival the worst menstrual cramps, but she always toughs it out.  

Peter’s even been there for a couple, always seeming to just know right when one is starting; sometimes he’ll try and grab her hand. Sometimes she’ll let him, and sometimes she’ll slap it away, rolling her eyes with a simple, “I’m fine.”

Either way, he’s by her side, trying his best to help her get through them. 

Another symptom, though not really all that bad considering the pain that comes with some of the phoney contractions, has been more of an awkward-annoying than anything. 

The amount of times Michelle has had to change shirts and start layering up because of—ahem— “developing milk ducts,” has been too damn many. It’s really not fun when you have to go change shirts in the middle of school because your boobs are literally leaking. 

It’s especially uncomfortable, and not to mention irritating, when she’s had to do it multiple times at Ned’s or Peter’s places. 

The first time, Ned had asked, poking and prodding (not literally of course, he didn’t want to die) for an answer.

“Is this the third time you’ve changed your shirt?” He’d asked, his voice teasing. 

Peter hadn’t contributed, though he covered his mouth with his hand, trying to hide a smile.

At that point, Michelle had been annoyed enough that she wasn’t about to take any shit from anyone. “Yes, Ned, because there is literally liquid coming out of my nipples every damn second and I ruined my other shirts.”

Both boys had immediately shut up after that. 

Normally, Michelle could take teasing, able to dish it out just as much in her prime, but now with all these hormones wreaking havoc on her emotions, she wasn’t as uncaring and impassive as she wanted to be. The littlest things could really get to her now; even the slightest inconvenience. 

“Man,  _ fuck _ winter.”

It’s not the first time those words have come out of Michelle’s mouth, but it still holds the same sentiment. 

She only hears an amused huff of agreement from the boy beside her, her mind now too preoccupied by the hovering hand just behind her back as they walk home from school.

It’s not even an actual touch, but it’s there alright.

As per usual, Peter’s been there every step of the way, perfectly playing the role of doting and supportive best friend, willing to drop anything at all to help her. Walking her home has become a tradition, especially now that fall is beginning to bleed into winter, the first snow having been the last week of November. 

His steps fall ever so slightly ahead of hers, still at the ready in case she slips on a random patch of ice. There are a few moments he holds his breath, anticipating a dramatic descent. At one point, she feels his hand rest at the small of her back for a fraction of a second, before he yanks it away, apologizing timidly. 

Michelle can’t help but shake her head at him. 

“Okay, chill. I’m not some old lady that needs you to walk her across the street, Parker,” she scoffs, not slowing her pace at all. 

Though she’s not looking at him, she can almost imagine the exact shade of red the tips of his ears turn. 

“I know, I know,” he says, looking down sheepishly, though his hand stays up. “I just read online that your center of gravity is super off right now, and that… you shouldn’t go outside during winter… in your condition....”

She snorts at that.

“Just being careful…” He mutters, a shy grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

And she appreciates it, she really does. It gives her that dumb, warm and fuzzy feeling all over, which she immediately tries to shake off in a shiver. 

“I think you can put your hand down though, dude,” Michelle responds, throwing him a sideways glance, brow quirked ever so slightly. 

He chuckles nervously, pulling his hand back to his side, though uncertainty still looms over him.

His reluctance doesn’t go unnoticed. “I’m _fine,_ you dork _,_ ” MJ teases, nudging him with her shoulder. “Besides, don’t you have some kind of sense—”

She doesn’t even get a chance to finish that thought as the solid concrete turns into black ice, her feet flying from under her.

Okay, maybe he had a point. 

Before she can make any kind of contact with the ground, Peter’s arms grab hold of her, immediately pulling her up. 

“MJ! Are you okay?”

His question doesn’t even register, and it takes a moment for her to realize that she’s laughing, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She almost loses it at the way his brows are scrunched together, the way he’s looking her up and down to look for any signs of damage. 

It takes a few moments of her laughter for him to realize that, yes, she’s fine. No, she’s not hurt, and he can’t help but smile. 

She laughs even harder, leaning into him for support.

And it’s then that Michelle notices how damn close he is.

She’s not sure if her thundering heartbeat is from that or the fall. 

There’s a hint of disappointment that she’d never admit to when Peter finally lets her go. 

“Are you okay?” he asks once more, just to be sure, clearing his throat. 

She laughs again, dusting herself off, that same warm feeling flooding her entire body despite the cold.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Peter seems to accept that, though his eyes are still glued to the ground in front of her as they start walking again, hand still hovering slightly at his side just in case, not wanting to take any more chances. 

Michelle decides not to say anything this time.

“So,” she starts, changing the subject, mostly to get her mind off of her raging hormones. “We still on for movie night at Ned’s?”

Peter’s face breaks into a huge grin. “Yeah, of course!”

But it’s only a fraction of a second later that the smile falters, and he groans. 

“Wait, dang it— no,” he runs a hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging as he lets out a dejected sigh. “I gotta work on this APUSH project with Gwen.”

There’s a faint tugging in Michelle’s stomach, which she immediately writes off as the baby getting restless. “I thought that was due last week?”

“We have Mr. West, fifth period…”

“Gotcha,” is all Michelle can really say at the moment. “It’s fine,” she adds, attempting nonchalance. “We can just do it tomorrow. No big deal.”

“Yeah,” Peter laughs nervously. “See… we’ve been kinda putting it off... and it’s due this Friday—we figured we might as well get as much work in as we can. So, I don’t know if a movie night is gonna happen this week. Depends on how much we get done tonight, you know?”

Once again, there’s that tugging in her stomach, stronger this time; a prickling feeling forming at the back of her throat. “Oh.”

“I know I’m ditching you guys, and I’m sorry,” Peter says. “But I promise, next week, I’m all yours.”

_ All yours. _

_ Ha. _

“No, no, I get it,” MJ does everything in her power to keep her tone light and friendly. “It’s cool.”

And it should be. Yeah, they’d been planning this movie night for a little over a week now, and yeah, he is technically ditching them after he’s agreed to go, but... Michelle is very well aware that school and grades are both important. 

She should be cool with this.

Key word:  _ should.  _

The rest of the walk is spent in a borderline uncomfortable silence, and it feels as if they’ve regressed to two weeks before. There’s a faint tension lingering in the air that makes it a little hard to concentrate, and Michelle can’t help the way she purses her lips or bites the inside of her cheeks.

_ Even the slightest inconvenience. _

* * *

Ned, upon hearing that Peter was ditching them to work on a school project, had expressed almost the same level of disappointment Michelle had nearly an hour before. Though, he was able to brush it off easily.

She didn’t understand why he wasn't more mad about it. 

He was  _ ditching _ them, for crying out loud. 

“I mean, it’s not that big of a deal,” Ned had reasoned when she’d complained about it for the fifth time in thirty minutes. “It’s just for this week.”

Michelle knew that, and she’d said so in response, rolling her eyes before adding a, “But still…”

It was so faint, the hint of pity in his expression, that Michelle almost didn’t notice it. 

Almost. 

“What?” She had asked, a bit too aggressively.

“Nothing! Nothing!” Ned immediately threw his hands up in defense. “Nothing at all.”

Her eyes narrowed, arms folding across her chest. 

“Hey, uh—” Ned had nearly spat out in a desperate attempt to change the subject. “What if we just go to the mall or something and get some food? I know Linda doesn’t let you eat anything fun anymore and we can get, like, twenty pretzels.”

It didn’t take much for Michelle to agree to that. 

And that’s what brought them to the Queens Center mall at nearly six pm on a tuesday night, wandering the food court aimlessly, delicious pretzels in hand. 

“Do you feel better?” Ned asks between mouthfuls of the cinnamon sugar bread. 

Michelle stops, turning to face him with a fixed glare. “Why would I feel bad?”

“Because—” Ned falters, glancing around cautiously. “Peter… ditched… us? To work on that project with Gwen? You were pretty mad about that?”

“I wasn’t  _ mad, _ ” she says, a bit too defensively. “No, good for him for working on his grades. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Ned stares at her for a moment before shrugging in defeat. “Nevermind.”

Michelle’s about to dig herself into a deeper grave when someone across the foodcourt, at the corner of her eye catches her attention. 

Sarah Williams, sans Dave, is sitting with what could be her sister, a little boy, and a few other women. 

“Oh, hey, that’s Sarah,” Michelle says, gesturing with her pretzel. 

Ned immediately turns and looks, not being any kind of subtle. “Woah, no way. The adoption-Sarah? That Sarah?”

Michelle nods quietly. 

The other women seem to be in deep conversation, too preoccupied with each other to notice the little boy trying to get their attention. He finally comes to Sarah, tugging at her sleeve playfully. A huge, warm smile stretches across her features as she stands up, following the young child to the designated “play” area of the mall. 

Even though moments ago she was filled with stupid emotions about a stupid boy, Michelle catches herself smiling fondly at the scene. 

The boy crawls through and around the tunnels, squealing with laughter when Sarah plays peek-a-boo with him from behind one of the slides. She chases him around the playground, tickling him mercilessly when she catches up. 

And Michelle won’t—can’t lie; it’s pretty darn cute.

After a few precious moments, both teens feeling a little bit too much like they’re spying for comfort, silently agreeing that it’s time to move on.

Wandering around the mall, no intention of shopping, just walking with Ned is actually kind of relaxing, Michelle realizes. It’s cathartic, in a way; doing nothing with a best friend. He doesn’t keep asking her about Peter and Gwen, even if he desperately wants to. And she really appreciates that. 

But as much as Ned was trying to distract her, it wasn’t quite working one-hundred percent.

Which was completely fine.

She kind of expected that.

What MJ does not expect, though, is running into the woman she and Ned were just spying on on their way out of the mall. 

“Michelle!” Sarah greets, beaming brightly. 

Not entirely sure how to act in a situation outside of the Williams’ family home and not centered around the baby, Michelle offers a small, well-meaning, if not a little awkward, wave. “Hey, Sarah,” she then, after a moment of nearly forgetting her manners, gestures to the boy beside her. “This is my friend, Ned.”

Ned gives a polite wave and a friendly, “Hi, nice to meet you,” which Sarah returns with the same enthusiasm.

There’s a moment after all of the initial greetings where none of them really know what to say.

“What are you up to?” Michelle asks to ease the awkwardness.

“Just getting some Christmas shopping done with the family,” Sarah responds, holding up her various bags.

Another beat of silence passes between the three of them.

“So,” the older woman starts, seeming a bit nervous now. “How are you… feeling?”

“Great!” Her response may have come out a bit too quickly to be truly convincing, but Michelle plays it off,  “Awesome!” She pauses for a moment, eyes lighting up, before gesturing down to her belly. “Oh, check this out! Finally coming in on that snooze button,” she laughs, Ned joining her, as she shows off her now popped-out navel.

Sarah chuckles, warmth radiating in her expression as she looks at Michelle’s bump. “Wow. Incredible.”

Normally, when people use the word “incredible,” it’s used sarcastically. MJ knows this, because she is one of those people. But seeing the way Sarah’s eyes are shining, the way her smile doesn’t falter, Michelle can practically feel the sincerity behind the word, how truly in awe this woman is. 

The moment is interrupted by a fluttering in Michelle’s abdomen. She grimaces after a particularly harsh movement. 

Sarah’s eyes widen, her awe melting into worry. “What?”

Holding a hand against her stomach, Michelle shakes her head. “Nothing… Just… kicking away in there.”

Almost immediately, Sarah’s smile returns, though she still looks concerned. After a moment, she starts to speak, though she stops herself, as if too shy to continue. “Could I—… Could I feel it?”

Honestly, after all this time spent with the Williams’, Michelle thought she’d never ask. “Are you kidding?” she exclaims, taking the older woman’s hand and placing it directly on her stomach. “At school, everyone’s always grabbing my belly. It’s crazy.”

Sarah laughs softly, before falling quiet, eyebrows pinching together as she waits for a movement. She moves her hand, desperately wanting to feel something.

It’s almost like the kid has stage fright; Michelle’s immediately brought back to all the other times the baby’s stopped kicking when someone important wants to feel it.

“I can’t feel anything,” she finally says, as if admitting defeat. “It’s not moving for me.”

“You should try talking to it,” Michelle offers. “Apparently, they can hear everything… even though it’s like, ten thousand leagues under the sea.”

The older woman sighs, pursing her lips as she takes in what Michelle said. She briefly glances around, unsure of whether or not it’s even going to work. “Hi,” she starts, almost inaudibly, focusing her attention on the bump. “Hi Baby. It’s me. Mo— it’s... Sarah,” her voice grows stronger, though it’s still soft and gentle. The corner of her lip quirks upward as she continues. “I… can’t wait to meet you. Can you hear me?”

There’s another moment of silence before her face lights up, smile radiant. 

“Oh, my God! I felt it!” Sarah exclaims, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as she returns her hands to her sides.

Michelle nods. “Yup. That’s an elbow,” she confirms, not fight back a smile this time.

Ned, seeming to have been entranced by the whole ordeal, speaks up. “Isn’t it cool?” He asks, almost giddy with excitement. 

Michelle knew that Sarah would be a good mom; she’d known that from her very first conversation with the woman; she had it down to a science. But seeing the genuine awe and affection the mother-to-be felt was something Michelle didn’t think she’d ever be able to forget. 

If it was possible at all, the warmth in Sarah’s demeanor seems to double— no,  _ triple _ —as she looks back down at the belly, her admiration evident. “It was beautiful,” she wholeheartedly agrees.

Michelle thought so too.

* * *

 

The school library is quiet, filled with students anticipating the coming winter break in just three days. No one seems to be able to concentrate long enough to get any actual studying done, the excitement of a closing semester being too great.

Michelle is no different, finding herself reading the same line over and over in her textbook, unable to actually grasp at anything the unnecessarily convoluted text is saying. Though, it could be argued that her lack of concentration doesn’t really come from enthusiasm for a break.

No, it’s main source happens to come from the mop of curly brown hair sitting across from her.

In the past few days, she’s found herself falling deeper and deeper. Into what? She doesn’t know; but she’s terrified. All her anger that she felt yesterday melted into a puddle when Peter asked her to study with him in the library after school.

How could she stay mad at him?

It was damn near impossible.

Though, when he mentioned that, once again, he couldn’t hang out that night because of his and Gwen’s project, the bitterness crept it’s way back in. 

She excuses herself to the bathroom for a moment, just to get away for a moment.

But when she comes back, it takes everything in her power not to pull an about face and run.

Gwen is currently sitting herself down in the chair  _ next _ to Peter as she sets her book bag on the ground, gently placing a plate of two cupcakes on the table. The boy’s face lights up like a freaking Christmas tree as he angles himself toward her. 

Michelle, feeling as if she’s lost all control of her body, as if she’s watching this from the outside, reluctantly returns to her seat in an effort to seem normal. 

“Oh, hey Michelle!” Gwen greets her cheerily, to which MJ just throws a simple peace sign. “I was just telling Peter that they were handing out free cupcakes in the cafeteria for people studying, and they gave me two for some reason—”

She’s not even able to finish that thought as MJ takes the one with the blue sprinkles, nearly demolishing the baked good in one bite. 

At Gwen’s silence, MJ glances up, eyes wide, a bit of frosting at the corner of her mouth, realizing that the two cupcakes weren’t meant for her. For them—

She suddenly feels very sheepish. “Oh, shit— sorry.”

The other girl just laughs, waving her hand. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it!”

“Sweet!” 

MJ then takes the other cupcake.

Neither Peter nor Gwen dare to make a comment. 

What? She doesn’t get good food at home. How was she supposed to pass up the chance at  _ two _ cupcakes?

Deciding to occupy herself with the same damn sentence she’d been reading for over half-an-hour, Michelle goes back to her studying, both her and the entity in her uterus having enjoyed the sweet snack. 

She’s just able to move on to the next sentence, just able to grasp what the hell this book is trying to say, when she hears Peter speak again.

“Oh, hey, MJ, is it okay if Gwen and I work on our project right now?” He asks, wiping the last bit of cupcake icing from the corner of his mouth. 

_ Was he serious? _

“We just wanted to get a head start on tonight’s work, you know?”

Michelle opens her mouth to speak, but finds that she is only able to let out an eloquent, “Uh…”

“We know you’re studying, and we didn’t wanna distract you or anything,” Gwen adds.

“Uh— yeah… sure. That’s fine,” MJ responds quietly, raising her book once more to avoid their gazes. 

She can practically feel the saccharine-sweet smile beaming down on her as she buries her nose in the textbook. 

“Just let us know if we’re bothering you!” Gwen’s sweet, kind voice breaks the silence once again. 

_ Too late. _

It was barely a minute in and, yup, they were certainly bothering her alright. The hushed whispers they shared back and forth, the intermittent giggles enough to make MJ want to gouge her own eyes out. She didn’t even know what this stupid project they were supposed to be doing was on—something about President What’s-His-Name from Missouri. It didn’t even matter at that point, she was so damn annoyed. 

Every once in a while, Gwen would let out a snort at some stupid thing Peter said, repeating it to herself as she wrote it down in her notebook. 

Michelle makes the stupid, idiotic mistake of glancing up, seeing Gwen listening intently to something Peter is saying, smiling and nodding as he talks through his thought process.

He laughs nervously and shakes his head at something she says.

She looks over his shoulder to read what he’s writing.

It was the high-five though; the high five, the connection of their two hands, that was the final straw. 

“Oh, shoot. Look at the time,” MJ starts, gathering all of her books before either of them can say anything else. “Gotta go. You kids have fun.” She groans as she picks up her bag and slings it over her shoulder, offering the two a firm salute before starting toward the door. 

Peter immediately rises from his seat. “You need me to walk you home?”

She doesn’t even look back as she responds, throwing a short, “Nope,” over her shoulder. 

The doors slam behind her as she leaves the library. 

The next day isn’t much better.

Though it starts out promising, for a Thursday, even with a particularly nasty fake-contraction waking her up.

It starts with a text in the group chat from Peter.

**Peter:** Good news! movie night is back on tonight!! Gwen and I are gonna do the finishing touches on our board and then you guys can come over!

**Ned:** oh bless up

As pissed as she’s been the past two days, Michelle can do nothing to stop the warm feeling that radiates throughout, nor the way the little baby in her uterus likes to kick up a storm when anything concerning Peter happens. 

So she responds with a simple, “cool.”

And it was good the rest of the day. Peter didn’t address her odd behavior in the library, which she was grateful for. 

Really, she had no idea why she was acting so crazy. Yes, the hormones were making her emotions go completely out of whack, but yesterday was pretty out there. She knows that she has nothing to worry about. 

Peter needs to keep his grades up. He has obligations. She and Ned aren’t his only friends in the world. 

Gwen was his friend, too.

It would have been unfair to expect him to just bail on the project. 

Michelle understood all of this, so there was really no reason for her to be as irritated as she was finding Gwen to still be at Peter’s apartment that night when he’d texted a cute little, “assemble!!” message to the group chat. 

“Assemble!!” meant that the project was done. That Peter was free. That he wasn’t with her anymore. 

Gwen, as always, greets Michelle was a enthusiastic, friendly wave; a caring, “How are you?” acting as a word-hug.

Michelle answers, as per usual, at least attempting to match the kindness in Gwen’s tone. “Good,” she replies simply, giving a polite nod. 

“How’s the baby doing?” Gwen rests her chin in her delicate hand, her eyes practically twinkling as she eagerly waits for whatever Michelle has to say. 

“Uh, it’s good, too,” MJ responds. “Still a baby.”

Perhaps this new emotion Michelle feels is misplaced. Gwen’s such a nice, kind person, as she’s been reminded of countless times; and Gwen doesn’t deserve this… hostility, or whatever it is that Michelle’s been feeling towards her. 

There’s literally nothing to worry about.

At least, MJ tries to convince herself of this as she watches Gwen jokingly tease Peter about his organizational skills  _ right in front of her.  _

“No, I think I should keep this at my house,” Gwen playfully chides, pulling the poster board from Peter’s grasp. “That way we  _ know _ we’ll have it for Friday.”

He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, not even bothering to defend himself. “Yeah, okay, I guess you’re right.” He looks up then, at Michelle; a silent plea for backup. 

She offers none.

Her stomach contracts in a brief, two-second flash of pain as she stands there awkwardly, though she hides the sudden feeling behind an uncaring expression. 

When Ned shows up just as Gwen is leaving, he immediately feels the tension almost exactly as he steps over the threshold. But he doesn’t say anything about it. 

The rest of the week picks up speed, and eventually, it’s Friday, and they’re all free from school— for at least another fourteen days. 

Luckily, things were still normal, even after that Thursday night at Peter’s place, much to MJ’s relief. Peter still insisted on walking her places (the store, the library, etc.), bringing her food when he was out on patrol. It was as if none of the past few days had even happened. 

The first few days were relatively quiet; a much needed break from the rigors of academia. Each day had been spent either in bed or on the couch, all with comfy pairs of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. 

In the time she’s been home, Michelle’s noticed that the baby seems to have a routine of its own now; waking her up at six am everyday with a few solid kicks to the internal organs, seeming to still be on the early-bird school schedule. A few somersaults here and there, an elbow, a knee. It seems to be lulled to sleep, however, when she’s up and moving around, or eating. Then, after a good two or three hours of wakefulness, the baby let’s her finally get some rest.

There’s a few more Braxton Hicks contractions here and there, a few much more painful than others. Some have started lasting for longer than a minute, some only a few seconds. She gets them all much more frequently now, which google says is pretty normal. The few really strong ones have almost knocked her off of her feet. 

Some of them are accompanied with some pretty intense abdominal pain Michelle isn’t so familiar with; sometimes she can’t even speak until the contraction has run its course. 

Her little sister Annie is there, too, when she’s not spending the day at her friends house with actual adult supervision. She’s been very curious— squealing and giggling when she feels the baby kick for the first time—about this whole pregnancy thing, and she doesn’t understand why it’s not going to live with them. In a sweet, yet badly timed moment, Annie even says that her big sister would be a good mommy. 

Michelle doesn’t really know if she can agree with that at this point in her life. 

Then, there are the times where she’s literally just by herself.

It’s been weird, getting to be alone with her bump while her parents are at work. The time spent just reflecting on the entire situation proves to be a bit emotionally draining, and she usually finds herself drowning in true crime documentaries on netflix when it gets too real. 

Ned and Peter help, too, when she hangs out with them, even though it might not always take her mind off of things. Peter, the literal  _ father _ of the unborn child, is there, so that makes it a bit hard to  _ not _ think about it. 

But they still try, and she always appreciates that. 

Unfortunately, Ned goes to Denver with his family the fourth day in, leaving MJ with Peter. 

It’s not necessarily bad, per se. It’s just not entirely ideal. 

Yeah, things have been pretty normal between them, considering the whole green-eyed monster debacle. But the problem, the gnawing in Michelle’s stomach, the twisting and turning in her gut, was still very much there even after break. Her heart still hammered and swelled in her chest when he got close, or when he did anything nice for her (which happened way too much to be even remotely fair). 

Even with all of those feelings, though, she persisted. She didn’t want to sabotage their friendship because she was feeling a little, well… jealous. 

For what, she didn’t know. 

(A small part of her knows very well what she’s so up in arms about, but she squashes that down and buries it away before it can even become an actual thought.)

And because she doesn’t want to miss out on hanging out with one of her best friends because of some dumb emotions, she sucks it up, and so she finds herself lounging on his couch, snacking on some popcorn as he rifles through his vast movie collection. 

She tries to tell herself that the look of concentration on his face as he flips through his DVDs—lips pursed slightly, nose scrunched— isn’t all that cute as she peaks at him from the corner of her eye. 

Though, she fails miserably at convincing herself.

Honestly, she’s not sure why she even tries at this point.

Might as well accept it.

“Who even has DVDs anymore?” Michelle asks, brow furrowed, the judgmental teasing not lost on her friend.

An amused scoff— a good sign that he took the joke well— comes out of his mouth. “Hey, they aren’t  _ that _ outdated. Yet.”

“Okay, sure.”

He only shakes his head at her sarcastic response.

Another minute or so passes, and Peter’s finally found something. “How do you feel about  _ Lord of the Rings?” _ He holds up all three movies in the trilogy.

MJ blinks. “Dude, we’re not marathoning that. It’s literally seven pm. That’s eleven hours.”

“I didn’t say we had to watch all of them!” He exclaims defensively, a laugh mixed in with his voice. “We can just do one tonight.”

She pauses, staring at him for a moment, her gaze calculating, before sighing in defeat. “Okay, but as long as we watch the best one.”

_ “Return of the King,  _ got it.”

Michelle scoffs. “Uh, no, you basic bitch,” she throws a piece of popcorn at him, rolling her eyes when he catches it in his mouth with a triumphant smirk.  _ “Two Towers  _ is obviously the superior movie.”

Peter gapes at her, his eyes twinkling in amusement. “What are you talking about?”

She shrugs. “It’s the best one. Fight me.”

“Okay, do you want me to actually list the reasons why you’re wrong? Because we’ll be here all night.”

Michelle eyes him expectantly.

“It literally won every Oscar it was nominated for. Did  _ Two Towers  _ do that? I don’t think so.”

“Oh, yeah, and the Oscars are really reliable.”

“Shut up.”

Michelle knows it’s immature, but she has to bite back. “No, you.”

It’s also gross, but she doesn’t think about that.

Rolling his eyes with a faux-exasperated groan, Peter finally yields first. “Why don’t we just watch all three,” he offers, a form of a peace treaty. “One tonight. One tomorrow. And one the next day.”

The idea of spending three nights in a row, alone, watching nerdy, but very high quality movies with Peter sends every butterfly Michelle’s ever felt right into her stomach. This is something that she knows could be potentially dangerous, given how sensitive she’s been these past few weeks. 

But if she were being honest, right then, in that moment, she didn’t really give a damn.

“Fine,” she sighs, relenting. 

“Yes!” Peter pumps his fist triumphantly, and Michelle fondly reflects on what a goddamn nerd this boy is. 

He goes to grab the movie again, but is distracted by his phone vibrating. Michelle checks her own phone, seeing if Ned sent something to the group chat, but finds nothing. 

Peter whips his own cell out, reading the text message carefully, eyes moving swiftly across the screen. When a faint grin breaks across his features, Michelle can’t help but ask, her curiosity getting the best of her,

“Who’s that?”

The boy looks back up at her, his good mood positively radiating off of him. “Gwen,” he says.

_ Well, fuck. _

“Mr. West posted our scores for the APUSH project, and we got an A!” 

_ It’s just about grades. It’s just about grades. _

The lump that’s begun to form in her throat makes it incredibly hard to swallow, and she finds herself having a difficult time looking right at him. 

Sure, in hindsight, it was no big deal at all. Just a simple text from a former project partner who happened to be really nice and pretty. It was normal. It happened all the time. People text each other good news every day. 

But MJ couldn’t have missed that smile even if she were the most ignorant person in the world. 

A beat of silence passes between them as Peter puts his phone away.

“So, Gwen,” Michelle starts slowly, unable to stop herself, attempting to mask her emotions behind a veil of curiosity. She pulls her knees up to her chest, or as far as she can pull them, and rests her hand on her chin.

“What about her?” Peter asks, quirking an eyebrow cautiously. 

“She’s really cool.”

He shifts, a bit wary as to where this conversation is going. “Yeah, she is.”

MJ can’t help it, she really can’t; the gnawing, twisting in her stomach; the annoying, tingling, burning sensation behind her eyes; the way her body heats uncomfortably.

Really, she knows that there’s a way that can fix all of this. A way that can make all of this easier in the long run.

“I think she likes you.”

And clearly, she’s learned nothing from the whole, “talking about your feelings is a good thing.”

_ If Peter thinks she’s so cool, if Peter thinks she’s so funny, then why doesn’t he just— _

“Uh… What?” He asks, now more confused than ever, his brows knit together as he stares blankly at Michelle. 

“I think Gwen likes you,” MJ repeats herself, her voice, though higher in pitch, much more firm as she tries to show some sort of excitement. The corners of her mouth stretch into a forced “friendly” smile.

Peter seems to have no idea what to do with any of this information. 

“So…” Michelle adds, glancing around. 

_ Why doesn’t he just— _

“You should ask her out.” 

Her throat burns as the words come out; she fights the slight waver by faking a cough. It’s a simple fix, really. Things were a lot easier when she liked Peter Parker and it was all just a fantasy, she realizes as she reflects on her sophomore year. When it wasn’t real. When he wasn’t attainable. 

It was easier to get over someone when they were with someone else, or so she assumed. 

It was harder to get hurt this way.

What did it matter that this was self-sabotage?

Peter immediately shakes his head, an uncomfortable laugh bubbling up out of his chest. “Uh, no. No… I don’t think so.”

She tilts her head at him, brows furrowed in slight confusion. “Why?” Her stomach contracts, a sharp pain running up her torso, lingering.

“I just… don’t… like her… like that, I guess.”

“Okay. Why?” Michelle presses, putting on the guise of enthusiastic wing woman, eager to get her friend a hot date. “She’s cute. And very into you.”

Glancing around, wringing his hands together nervously, Peter again, shakes his head. “No, Gwen’s just nice. She doesn’t like me.”

“Oh, come on, dude,” Michelle chides, a strained chuckle falling out of her as she speaks. “It’s so incredibly obvious.”

“Uh…”

“Ask her to prom, at least!” MJ tries to tease, though it falls flat as she unconsciously rests a hand against her belly in an attempt to subdue the discomfort.

Peter swallows thickly, huffing out a shaky breath. “I don’t… no, I don’t think that’s a good… idea, MJ.”

“But  _ why?” _

“Well,” he starts, sputtering, finding it hard to form, let alone express, any coherent thought. “It’s that… I— ugh— I…” he gestures vaguely to her and back to himself, though she doesn’t know what exactly he’s trying to tell her. “I li—”

She stops him before he can continue. “Because of this?” she asks, pointing to her stomach, her facade faltering for just a moment as another jolt of pain shoots through her. “Dude, don’t let that stop you.”

Peter shakes his head, growing frustrated. “No no no no, MJ. That’s not what I mean—”

“I mean, it’s not like we’re dating or anything,” every word that comes out of her mouth just piles on to the mountain of physical and emotional strain, each one more agonizing than the other. “Just because we’re having a baby doesn’t mean we’re…  _ together. _ Or that we  _ will be _ together.”

She can’t stop herself. Cliche as it sounds, it’s as if standing by, watching a car wreck happen right before her eyes. Like there’s nothing in this universe that could stop it from happening.

In her own inner turmoil, she fails to see the way Peter’s expression falls, any hint of positivity now having vanished with just a few sentences, utterly crushed. He looks at the ground, not at her, as he mutters a defeated, “I guess. Yeah.”

It’s not like she expected him to fight for her or anything, or to have some big declaration of love, or anything like that, but she has to admit…

Hearing him actually agree with her hurts more than she could have anticipated.

In all of this, whatever the hell it was, the cramping, twisting pain has grown to be almost unbearable, and she can’t keep up the act anymore as she clutches at her stomach. 

Peter, almost as if instantly forgetting everything that’s happened in the last few minutes, rushes to her side, his expression wrought with concern. “Hey! MJ! Are you okay?” 

Waving him off of her with a weak hand, the attempt at nonchalance a complete failure, Michelle huffs out, “I’m fine. It’s just a fake contraction. It’ll be over—” she stops short, another stab of pain ripping through her, the air in her lungs having run out. “It’ll… be over soon. Happens all the… God, the… time.” 

“Uh, well, uhm— it doesn’t look like it,” Peter fumbles for his phone,  panic setting in as he watches her. “Ohmygod are you sure?”

She’s about to respond, her voice regaining some strength, when another wave hits her; she cries out in agony, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.

With the pain how it is, she can’t really focus on anything else; she can’t really feel or hear anything at all.

Except Peter’s shaking hand in hers, and his wavering voice as he calls Aunt May.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW WE MADE IT
> 
> Sorry for coming back from a long hiatus with angst, but ya know, it had to be done pls don't hate me
> 
> Again, please refrain from mentioning the ffh trailer in the comments if you decide to do so!! 
> 
> Thanks again for reading, commenting and leaving kudos, though!! I'm so glad to be back writing for you guys and I can't wait to share the rest of this story with you!!
> 
> ALSO, follow me on tumbler @spiderman-homecomeme and on twitter @smhomecomeme for updates on story stuff and life!! Love you all!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
